Unleashed Potential
by Loopstagirl
Summary: A disgraced servant is after revenge on Merlin, and discovers the perfect way to seek it. But if the warlock doesn't have enough to worry about, a new deadly creature is after the mysterious Emrys.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I still own absolutely nothing. How unfair is life sometimes?**

**This is kind of a follow on from "Just One Day." It's not a sequel as such, but you will have a much better understanding of who the characters are if you have read that.**

**Also please note that it is set between 2x09 and 2x12. **

**Enjoy and don't forget to review.**

It had been months since Arthur had discovered a few home truths about what the situation was like with his servants. But true to his word to Merlin, he had instantly set about making some changes. It had begun – much to Merlin's annoyance – by forcing his own manservant to take a few days off, saying that no one should be at work if they are stupid enough to go three days without eating. What he really meant, of course, is that he wanted to make sure Merlin was alright, but the Crown Prince was not the type to say such things.

Whilst Merlin was recovering, the prince had taken the time to approach his father on the matter. Arthur was sure he had never been as nervous as he had for that meeting. If there was an attack looming, or a problem with the Knights, the young prince knew precisely what needed to be said to get his own way. But in a matter like this? An issue where, technically speaking, he was criticising the King for the way he handled his own staff. Arthur was lucky, he had caught his father in a reasonably good mood and the King had decided that if Arthur was so worried about the situation, he should take it on himself.

So that was precisely what the prince did. It began with making sure Merlin had told him absolutely everything, including whether there were any more unsavoury servants lurking. Three had been instantly dismissed; another two warned that if all the silver didn't reappear, they would be going the same way. Then he had pulled in some new servants, determined to lighten their work load and give them the promised time off. Merlin had flatly refused to have help, claiming that no one else would manage to polish armour in the particular way his 'prat of a master' (his exact words) liked and that he would only have to do it again anyway. Secretly, Arthur was touched, but had handled the situation by cuffing the younger man over the head. Even so, he hadn't given Merlin much choice when it came to taking the afternoon off.

The prince knew how to play his servant when the time came. Scheduling his training around the time he had set aside for Merlin, Arthur knew the boy wouldn't have a good enough excuse to not take the time. It wasn't as if Arthur needed his services, not until much later in the evening when the straw dummies and Knights alike had felt the edge of his sword. After much moaning and whining in the way only Merlin could manage, he finally agreed.

That was where Merlin was now. Stretched out peacefully in front of his lake, his magic book balanced on his lap as he leant against a nearby tree. If Arthur thought he was simply going to sit around doing nothing in the few moments he could now snatch in between his duties, he couldn't be more wrong. For the majority of the week, Merlin was simply too exhausted to contemplate being able to study magic. Between looking after the royal prat and saving Camelot from secret threats that no one seemed to know about, the warlock didn't have the will power to sit up half the night, learning the secrets his book offered. He knew Gaius was beginning to get worried. His magic was slipping. Not in power, he was still just as strong as ever. But Merlin was relying on his raw ability more and more, bringing things floating over to him with nothing more than a flicker of his eyes.

But he wasn't learning anything new, wasn't learning the spells that he knew he would need in order to save Arthur or fulfil his destiny. It was true, his power was still growing, but it wasn't expanding. After Gaius had caught him using it carelessly once again, he had made the warlock swear that he would resume his studies, learn truly who – and what – he was. Realising his mentor had a point; Merlin had taken refuge at the lake on his time off, and sure enough, had learnt more than even he could comprehend at times.

Glancing down at the beautifully illustrated page in front of him, the warlock smiled, his eyes lighting up as he did so. It wasn't magic they were lighting up with though, but sheer contentment. Arthur had stayed true to his word, and the atmosphere in the castle was almost unrecognisable. The servants were almost bouncing around the place, their chores lightened but still providing the income most so desperately needed. Things had never been better in Camelot.

"_Verto __is __gramen_," Merlin breathed, allowing his magic to fill him up. As his eyes glowed softly with the power contained within, his hand stretched out over the grass in front of him. A soft light glowed from his palm, and when he moved away, a flower was blooming in front of him; one he knew only grew on the outskirts of Ealdor.

Plucking it gently from the ground, Merlin felt his smile widen. He would take it back to Camelot, back to Gaius. He had felt incredibly guilty when his mentor had told him that he was abusing his gift by not studying, that he would never reach his true potential if he didn't embrace all aspects of his magic rather than just what came elementally to him. But the physician would be pleased with this, Merlin knew he would. The spell was not _that_powerful, transforming something that already existed came easily to the warlock. But the fact he could control it for something as delicate as a flower, Merlin knew that meant something. The first time he had tried it, he had transformed the whole of the area into a meadow of wild flowers, some with a life of their own. He had finally managed to regain control, but Gaius had found the whole thing far too amusing for Merlin's liking.

Feeling a slight chill beginning to settle into him, Merlin glanced up across the lake and found the sun was now directly in between the two mountains, a clear signal that he needed to get a move on. Arthur may have given him the afternoon off, but that didn't mean the evening was Merlin's as well, and the prince hated to be kept waiting at the best of times.

Drawing himself to his feet, he quickly stuffed his book into his bag, making sure it was well hidden before dropping the flower lightly on top. It would do no good for people to start asking questions about where it had come from. Shoulder the bag, Merlin took one long glance back at the lake, a smile on his face even as tears lingered momentarily in his eyes.

"I'll be back soon," he whispered. He had to come here as often as he could, had to know that he wasn't forgetting her. The grief was still raw, but practising his magic in the place where he felt closest to her always brought him comfort. Freya hadn't made him hide who he was, and even now, it was her he turned to when he needed to release the magic within him.

Walking slowly away from the lake, Merlin picked up his pace as he entered the forest, knowing that his luck would mean there was some viscous creature waiting to eat him or something equally as dramatic.

_Well, _he couldn't help think with a ghost of a smile, _at __least __I __could __turn __it __into __a __flower._

Suppressing the urge to burst out laughing, Merlin moved quickly, adamant that he was going to make it back in time for Arthur. He didn't particularly want the whole evening ducking things or being threatened with the stocks every five seconds.

What he didn't notice however, was the pair of eyes watching him go. They were deep black pits of swirling emotions, no warmth present in the slightest. It was as if all sanity had been stripped away, leaving just an empty shell of the man who had once been there. Watching Merlin go, the man's face split into a leer. His master would be happy with these latest developments.

Satisfied that Merlin couldn't hear him, Greg stepped from around the tree. He was bent and twisted now, walking with a limp as he shuffled his way through the forest, heading in the opposite direction to the warlock. His once idolised prince may have been the one to throw him unceremoniously from the castle grounds, claiming he would return on pain of death, but it was Merlin that the ex-servant sought revenge on most. After all, if it wasn't for the meddlesome youth, he would have secured his position as Arthur's manservant long ago.

_Patience._

The voice echoed throughout his head as Greg forced his scrunched up hands to relax, taking in a shuddering breath. Even if Merlin had seen him, he wouldn't have recognised him, for Greg had changed beyond recognition. His new master had seen to that. He didn't mind though. He liked his new appearance; it matched the blackness within his heart. A blackness that had only grown as Greg had bound his soul to his master and promised to serve him for all eternity.

In return, he was promised whatever it was he wanted. And for Greg, that was revenge on Merlin. Not just on the boy himself, Greg had had many an opportunity to kill the young man ever since he had begun to follow him. No, he wanted something a lot more pleasurable. He would destroy Merlin, that was for sure. But he would do it by bringing down the prince. He knew nothing would give the servant more anguish than watching his master fall.

The fact Merlin also happened to be the Emrys his master was after was just going to make victory that little bit sweeter. After destroying Arthur, Greg knew they would then have the pleasure of destroying Merlin. Greg would make sure the warlock knew precisely who had brought about his downfall, especially when his magic would be hopeless against Greg. The fallen servant was untouchable.

But Greg's part wasn't yet. First, he had to rely on those who had suffered the same fate as him at Merlin's hands. They had only been dismissed rather than thrown from the city, meaning they had become Greg's eyes and ears. Or rather, Greg's master's, but they didn't need to know that, it was beyond their understanding. They would understand soon enough, but first they needed to perform their tasks. Greg knew enough about the relationship between Arthur and Merlin to know it wouldn't take a lot to drive a wedge between them. It would only be a temporary thing, their bond was still strong, but Greg didn't need it to be for long. Just long enough to make Arthur ride out alone.

MMMM

Merlin made good time back to Camelot, racing through the gates even as the sun began its final descent over the horizon. He knew he would still be cutting it fine getting to Arthur on time, but was satisfied he had long enough to drop his bag off first. He certainly didn't want to have to explain to the prince what was resting within.

He took the steps to Gaius' chambers two at a time, only to skid to a halt at the top.

"Gwen?" The maid was hovering uncertainly outside of Gaius' door, but she jumped and turned towards Merlin at his arrival. Her burnt-honey eyes were filled with concern as her hands twisted somewhat anxiously together and she kept glancing over her shoulder at the shut door.

"Gwen, what is it? Are you hurt? Are you sick?" Hurrying forward, Merlin gazed at the girl quizzically, trying to see if there was anything visibly wrong with her. Gwen shook her head, her curls bouncing even as she spared another glance over her shoulder.

"It's Arthur, he..." She never got the time to finish her sentence however, before Merlin practically broke the door down.

"Arthur!"

"Subtle as usual, _Mer_lin." The answer came before Merlin had even located the prince, but as soon as he had, he felt a rush of relief at seeing his master sitting up. He constantly worried the prat would get himself killed if Merlin wasn't around. Instead, Gaius was finishing tying up a rather hefty bandage around the prince's shoulder. Merlin knew Arthur had slightly restricted movement in that limb, a lingering effect of the Questing Beast's bite, something that caused great annoyance to the prince.

"What did you do this time?" Merlin asked, sounding exasperated as he moved further into the room. Casually dropping his bag to the floor, he let his foot nudge it under the table subtly, catching Gaius' eye as he did so and shooting his mentor a look that clearly said don't ask.

"Who said I did anything?" Arthur shot back, only to wince slightly as Gaius tied the final knot with a flourish before moving off to get him something to help with the pain. He himself still didn't properly know what had happened; only that Sir Roderick had gained the upper hand somewhat spectacularly. If the blood loss hadn't made his head spin in such a way, Arthur would have laughed at the look of absolute horror on the Knight's face. But the prince couldn't complain. He always pushed them to treat him normally; claiming them softening their blows wasn't going to help him out on the battlefield.

"Oh, of course not. A sword just jumped into the air, did it?" Merlin said drily, moving across the room to get a better look. "How bad, Gaius?"

He wasn't even going to attempt to ask Arthur that question, knowing the prince would just brush it off. It was alright for him, he wasn't the one that would have to keep it clean and make sure the bandages were changed when needed. Arthur got hurt...and Merlin had to deal with the consequences. Gaius glanced over his shoulder to where his ward was hovering uncertainly and found himself smiling, despite the fact he had an injured prince sitting in his chambers.

"He's going to be just fine."

"I never said he wasn't." Merlin responded somewhat heatedly, but turned towards the door as he spoke and so missed Gaius' eye roll. "Gwen? Gwen, are you going to come in or just stand there?"

For a moment, there was silence, before Gwen cautiously stuck her head around the door. Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin saw Arthur immediately sit up straighter, the pained expression on his face immediately melting away as he tried to cover it up. Disguising his own laugh with a hasty cough, Merlin turned away, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. He was happy for his friends, he really was. But it certainly provided him with a fool-proof way of being able to wind Arthur up.

"Guinevere."

"Sire." Unable to stop himself, Merlin snorted in amusement, almost feeling Arthur's burning gaze switch onto the back of his head. Even in the safety of Gaius' chambers, they were still guarded with each other. Before anything could be said however, the door opened once more. Merlin's smile instantly was wiped from his face as he swallowed. It was a good job they had been guarded, for who was to walk in but the king himself?

"Arthur?" Uther brushed past Gwen as if she didn't exist, certainly not acknowledging the deep curtsey she immediately dropped into, her eyes firmly on the floor. For a moment, Merlin found his mind racing. He had never even considered the fact that none of them bowed to Arthur, barely even the lesser servants now. The prince made the point of making sure everyone knew he had a presence in the castle, that he was approachable should the case need it. His rule was certainly going to be different to that of his father's. Eventually though, a sharp prod in his back from Gaius had Merlin lowering his head, even though the physician himself merely dipped it in acknowledgement before turning back to his shelves, determined to find the right potion for the prince.

"Father?" Arthur had tried to rise to his feet when the King entered, but a sharp look from Gaius made him stop. If the King told him to do something, more often than not, Arthur would attempt the opposite, especially when he had been a boy. When Gaius told him to do something, however, even without words, Arthur obeyed. Merlin only wished he knew how the physician managed it.

"Why do I have Sir Roderick begging me to dismiss him? I won't have carelessness amongst my Knights, they are supposed to protect the realm, not try and kill each other."

"An accident, Sire, nothing more." No warning look from Gaius this time was going to keep Arthur in his seat. The prince rose stiffly, causing Merlin to automatically hurry forward, wondering whether his master would need – or admit to needing – any help. Heat was rising in his cheeks now, and Merlin knew it was a mixture of shame that he had managed to get himself hurt badly enough to be taken to Gaius and annoyance that Uther was questioning things. Arthur had let the matter go, it simply undermined his authority with the knights the fact Roderick had gone to his father. "The fault was all my own, Sir Roderick merely did as I had instructed."

"Very well." For a moment, Uther's cold grey eyes bore into Arthur's blue passionate ones, Merlin standing somewhat self consciously in the middle of the two, not wanting to move in case it drew the King's attention to him. The sooner Uther was out of here, the better, for Merlin was more than aware of what was sitting under their table, practically in full sight. "I trust you will be fit for the hunt tomorrow?"

Merlin took one glance at Arthur and immediately winced. He _knew _there had been something he had forgotten to mention to his master before he had headed towards the lake. Arthur caught sight of his wince and shot him a level glare, one that clearly said he would deal with his manservant later. Whether Gaius was just genuinely concerned or had seen enough of the looks to know what was going on, Merlin wasn't sure, but the physician cut in.

"I'm not sure it is advisable, My Lord. Arthur's arm needs time to heal..."

"I'm fit, Father." Arthur's words had a final ring to them that even Gaius would not go against. Merlin always saw the glimmers of the Future King the Dragon promised him whenever Arthur spoke like that, even if it was normally him being stubborn.

"Very well. I shall be expecting you." Uther turned on his heel and swept from the room, barely giving even Gaius a second glance.

"Merlin?" The manservant had the sudden urge to try his transformation spell again. Maybe turn Arthur into something that couldn't sound quite so threatening with just one word?

"Yes, Arthur?" Merlin said slowly, inwardly cringing.

"A hunt?"

"Um..."

"Gwen, you'll accompany me to fetch some more firewood, won't you, my dear?" So saying, Gaius bustled across the room, ushering Gwen out in front of him. The maid paused for a split second in the door way, meeting Arthur's gaze and smiling gently before she disappeared from sight, leaving the prince to deal with his manservant.

"Merlin?"

"Your father requests your presence on a hunt with Lord Banton at dawn tomorrow?" Merlin muttered sheepishly, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. He should have known this day had been going too well to last.

"Banton?" Arthur's temper finally gave out as he stared at Merlin in bewilderment. "Merlin, you know how much I hate that man! And now I don't have time to come up with any excuses. Nice one, _Mer_lin."

As Arthur sat back down, breathing heavily, Merlin felt a stab of annoyance. He hadn't asked to have the afternoon off, and he was sure he would have remembered to tell the prince. Eventually.

"I'm your servant, not your messenger. He should have just told you himself!"

"Merlin, he's the king. Why would he tell me himself?"

"Maybe because he is your father?" But Merlin knew the second the words left his mouth that he had overstepped the mark, especially by the way Arthur's eyebrow rose.

"Sorry, Sire," he added meekly. Arthur continued to gaze at him coolly for a moment before he started for the door.

"Worse servant ever," he muttered under his breath as he left, knowing that Merlin would be following him. After all, just because he had given the lanky boy an afternoon off didn't mean Merlin's duties for the day were finished.

"I can think of worse," Merlin said in an undertone, his voice dark. Arthur had to give him that one. After all, it was because of said servants that things had changed. Thinking about how Greg had tried to hurt Gwen, Arthur felt his blood begin to boil. It was just lucky the man had indeed fled the city when Arthur had ordered him too, for the prince was not sure he would have been able to control his temper. He was just glad that the situation had been resolved and even the three others that had been dismissed – whilst they were still lurking in the lower towns somewhere - they were not allowed anywhere near the castle. What good was all of Camelot's defences if they were being torn apart from within? After all, whilst it he would never admit it to Merlin, it was the servants that kept this place going. Without them, Arthur knew he wouldn't have a kingdom left by the time he was king.

The two travelled the rest of the way in silence. It wasn't an uncomfortable one however, but one where nothing needed to be said. They both knew what the other was thinking. The year or so they had been together had taught them everything they needed to know about each other. Merlin found it somewhat ironic that Arthur managed to read his mood so well considering the prince didn't know the slightest thing of importance about the man he spent most of his time with. But the warlock didn't mind. He was just grateful Arthur knew him well enough to put up with the servant, for Merlin was more than aware that he didn't stick by the normal servant etiquette.

Entering Arthur's room, Merlin hung back as Arthur practically fell into his seat. They may have been friends on the best of days, but he was still the prince's servant. Someone had already delivered the prince's dinner, and Merlin had a very good idea of who. Mary was constantly covering for him. Every time he was running late, she merely sent another servant, knowing there were plenty of maids lurking around the kitchens with the hope of being sent to the prince's chambers. Merlin was fond of the head cook, and he knew she was of him. After all, who else would insult the prince about his lack of concern in front of the prince himself, even if she hadn't realised who "Archie" was?

"For gods' sake, Merlin, stop lurking and sit." Arthur's sharp command quickly brought Merlin out of his musings and he somewhat tentatively moved around the table, sitting on the edge of the seat as Arthur shoved a dish towards him without looking up. If Merlin had thought Arthur sorting out the servants was enough of a surprise, he had no idea what was coming. The prince was almost paranoid about his servant not eating enough these days. Merlin knew that was again thanks to Mary. She had certainly delivered a few home truths that day. If Arthur ordering more food had been noticed at the kitchens, no one said anything. But the prince certainly wasn't going to let his servant forget about eating. Every time they were in his chambers over a meal time, Arthur made sure Merlin ate something.

There wasn't a lot he could do whenever Merlin was out gallivanting in the way only Merlin could, nor when they were attending anything official. But Arthur could certainly make sure he kept an eye on his servant when it was just the two of them. He just said he didn't want Merlin fainting like a girl in front of the entire court, but Merlin knew him better than that. And he was suitably touched.

It was something about them eating together that had created an even greater depth to their bond than before. There was something more personal about it, something that stripped away titles and positions and just allowed them to be two young men enjoying each other's company. Merlin knew it was the meals that had given Arthur the chance to read his moods, gauge his reactions as they often talked about anything and everything. Anything from meaningless gossip Merlin had picked up during his duties to plans of attack when there was a rumoured bandit attack; the two of them had spoken about it.

"So do you want me to get you out of this hunt then, Sire?" Merlin eventually asked. He knew it would mean a day in the stocks at the very least, especially since the King knew full well Arthur was aware of the hunt. But if he didn't offer, Arthur might think of the idea himself. And somehow, that made it so much worse.

"I should say yes just to teach you a lesson." Arthur muttered, stabbing at his meat with a slight fierceness as he thought about the upcoming hunt. Normally he jumped at the chance to be the one to escort the visiting nobles, but he really couldn't stand Banton. But he knew his father would be expecting it of him, it was his duty as Crown Prince, after all. As much as he might like too, it wasn't fair to make Merlin pay the prince. What Arthur could do however, was make sure his servant found out precisely what the prince thought of him forgetting to pass the message on.

"But I've got a much better idea."

"What?" Merlin asked hesitantly, edging towards the door without leaving his seat, much to Arthur's amusement. The young man looked ready to bolt.

"You're coming too."

"_What?__"_

"Well, we need a servant, don't we? You're dismissed for the night, Merlin. Don't you dare be late tomorrow or..."

"...it's the stocks." Merlin finished for him, standing up as he spoke. "Understood, Sire." Rolling his eyes at the smirk of satisfaction Arthur shot him, Merlin trailed somewhat miserably from the room.

He had been having such a good day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for all of the lovely reviews/alerts etc, it really means a lot, thank you!**

One of the things Merlin loved about his time off was that night, he wasn't so exhausted that he just fell into bed without even bothering to take his boots off. Tonight was no exception, and there was a spring in his step as he strode from Arthur's chambers. Having been dismissed for the night, the warlock wondered what to do with his spare evening. The prince probably hadn't even realised how early it was, both of their timings were always slightly off when Merlin had an afternoon of freedom.

Thinking about the following day, the servant groaned out loud, causing the maid passing him in the opposite direction to shoot him a somewhat bewildered look. Smiling at her until she was out of sight, Merlin lent against the wall, running his hand through his hair in frustration. Arthur wasn't the only one who couldn't stand Banton. The man was a pompous arse, with a hatred of magic that rivalled Uther's. Merlin had to smirk at that though. His own power gave him the ability to sense in others whether they had magic or not. It was amazing how many people had a flicker of power there without ever acknowledging its presence. What made him laugh was Banton had no idea how much magic his precious son had, and Merlin was sure the young man was practising, there was something more there than a lingering presence.

Knowing that Arthur truly would kill him if he was late in the morning, Merlin was hit with a sudden idea. Pushing himself away from the wall, he turned on his heel and strolled in the opposite direction. It was alright for Arthur, all he had to do was roll out of bed, into some clothes and leave. It was left to Merlin to make sure all the equipment was properly packed and they had enough provisions to keep the nobles happy for the day. A hungry and annoyed Arthur was not something Merlin was prepared to deal with.

He took the stone steps two at a time, knowing descending in that manner was normally asking for trouble, but somehow, he made it in one piece. Pushing the heavy door open, Merlin immediately smiled at the warm and welcoming smells that wafted out to meet him.

"Merlin, my dear boy!" Mary's booming voice came floating easily above the din of the kitchen, and his goofy grin firmly in place, Merlin slipped effortlessly through the hustle of the kitchen to join her at the giant pot she was stirring. Without waiting, he let his hand dip towards it, eager for a taste of the delights she was stirring up, only to find his knuckles sharply rapped by the spoon she was holding in her free hand.

"None of that, boy." She scolded gently, her eyes twinkling as she took in Merlin's indignant expression as he nursed his hand. Letting her eyes run over him, she sighed. "One day you are going to put on some weight. Fetch me that bowl, Merlin."

Following her instructions with a heartfelt smile, Merlin wordlessly handed her the dish. It wasn't what he had come in here for, but there was no way the most powerful warlock of all time was about to say no to Mary's cooking. Sure enough, the bowl was filled and handed back. Grinning his thanks, Merlin hitched himself onto the work top next to her and began to eat, regardless of the fact he had dined with Arthur not even an hour ago. Practising magic for the length of time he had that day always left him with a ravishing appetite, but he knew he had to be careful not to let it show in front of Arthur, in case the prince should grow curious about what it was that Merlin got up to during his time off.

After only a few moments, the bowl was practically licked clean, and as a girl passed with an armful of dirty dishes, Merlin balanced his on top, grinning when she looked over and causing her to blush. Turning his attention back to Mary, he raised his eyebrows innocently at the look she was giving him.

"What?"

"You do know what that does to her, don't you, Merlin? Anyway, what do you want? I'm assuming you didn't just come in here for food, however flattering that might be. You're always after something."

"I am not!" Merlin cried, trying to wrack his brains for the last time he had come in just to drop by. To his shame, he couldn't think of anything, and already he could feel the dull flush working its way up his neck.

"Mm hm. So, what is it this time?"

"We're going hunting tomorrow with Lord Banton..."

"And you want me to make you up a picnic, is that right?"

"You'd be saving my life," Merlin replied earnestly, sending her a look that her shaking her head fondly. She knew better than the majority of the servants how tight the bond was between Merlin and his master, especially having witnessed it firsthand here in her very kitchen.

"Don't be so dramatic, Merlin, you only need ask. It will be with the stable boy at first light. I presume you have informed the stables the horses will need to be saddled?"

"I will have when I get down there," Merlin responded with a grin, silently thanking the gods under his breath for Mary. That would save him even more time, meaning he might not have to get up quiet as early. Which in turn would mean there was less chance of him running late.

"Oh be gone with you, Merlin. Go and see to your duties and don't let me catch you making any more maids blush, young man."

With one more final disarming smile, Merlin scurried his way out of the kitchens, turning automatically towards the stables. Arthur was going to be in for a surprise when he realised that his servant had actually done his job for once and got everything organised. It didn't happen very often. But in fairness to Merlin, it was normally whilst trying to juggle at least six other things and keep the prince happy. No wonder he forgot something occasionally.

With high spirits, Merlin took no time at all in reaching the stables. He was just about to enter when something drew his attention. Hushed voices were coming from around one side, and ever the alert warlock with a destiny to protect, Merlin immediately found himself edging towards them. Pressing himself to the side of the wall, Merlin let his magic fill him up. Energy felt as if it was almost sparking from his fingers, yet he knew that no one else would be aware of it. Creeping around the stables, the servant was listening hard.

"...needs to be alone."

"How? We all know he won't ride out alone!" Merlin groaned as he heard the voices. He recognised two of them, and knew without doubt the third would be there as well. Tomas, Harold and Yaren. The three who had been dismissed when Arthur tightened things up.

Making sure that his back was kept pressed to the stable walls, Merlin crept sideways around the barn. He had to hear more, had to hear what they were planning. Somehow – whether it be through magic or just the experience of being the manservant (and secret protector) of Camelot's biggest trouble magnet – but Merlin knew that whatever they were talking about was not going to bode well. Or more importantly, he knew that it was not going to bode well for Arthur, nothing ever did when it came to the prince.

"Well, we'll have to do something about...wait, did you hear that?" As Tomas broke off, Merlin froze. He was so sure that he had managed to not make a sound so far, something that, for him anyway, was a big deal. Before he had time to consider what they had heard, a strong hand clamped down on his shoulder, making him jump a mile in the air in surprise. Considering how focused his magic had been trying to identify any threats coming from the trio who were still just out of his view, he certainly hadn't see that coming.

"Why are you lurking, boy?" Merlin bit his tongue to hold back the angry retort that made its way to the tip of his tongue, instead just looking at the floor. Banton's son. Out of everyone, why did it have to be him? Merlin didn't so much have anything against the young man; he had done nothing to warrant that. But he knew how much Banton hated magic, and the fact that the young noble was clearly practising anyway made Merlin suspicious. If he could hide something that big from his own father, what else could he do?

"My Lord?" Merlin settled for asking somewhat respectfully, lowering his head to stop the young lord seeing the smile dance across his lips. Arthur would have been so proud, Merlin couldn't think ironically. His servant had managed to address someone respectfully for once. Although Merlin knew that the day he addressed Arthur in that manner and meant it seriously was the day something was very wrong.

"I asked you a question, servant." The hand on his shoulder tightened in warning, and Merlin gritted his teeth. He knew it was time to play the lowly servant again. After all, it wasn't just this young Lord Sebastian who was able to hide things. He only hoped that the man's magic wasn't as powerful as his and so didn't give him the same advantage when it came to detecting other people's magic. Somehow, he didn't think so. For if Sebastian could sense his raw power, Merlin knew he wouldn't be casually standing there with his hand gripping the young servant's shoulder almost threateningly.

"Nothing, My Lord. I was merely getting things ready for my master's hunt tomorrow." Merlin kept his head down when he spoke, worried that the lord would be able to see the lie reflected in his eyes. The trio had fallen silent, and Merlin knew even without his magic they would be listening to the confrontation. Naturally mean they would know by now that it was Merlin who was standing the other side of the wall. Just what the warlock needed.

"Then I suggest you try _in_the stables." Sebastian's voice was low and cold, and with his hand still gripping on Merlin's shoulder, he pulled the boy away from the wall. Merlin didn't even have time to glance behind to see whether the three were even still there before he was thrown into the stables. He managed to keep on his feet, stumbling dramatically, but by the time he had regained his balance, Lord Sebastian had gone. Merlin could still sense his power though, and it was with a flicker of annoyance that he realised the noble had gone around the back of the stables, precisely where the three disgraced servants had been planning.

Groaning out loud, Merlin shot the stable boy a grin when he felt the lad's confused stare. Why oh why did Sebastian have to be involved? If it was just the servants, he could have simply warned Arthur they were seen lurking around the castle and the prince would make sure the guards knew that they were allowed no access. But throw a noble in the mix, and things suddenly got complicated. Even with the unusual friendship he had with his master, Merlin knew he couldn't go around accusing. Arthur might, just might, believe him, but apart from being more cautious, there would be nothing he could do without solid evidence. And Merlin had none. He didn't even have any proof himself that the lord was in league with the servants, but him just happening to turn up at the same time when they were plotting something? Merlin had long ago given up believing in coincidences when it came to attempts on Arthur's life.

"Merlin?" Said person almost jumped in surprise when he realised he was being addressed. His mind had been racing so much about what the others could be up to, he hadn't noticed one of the grooms come up to him. "Everything okay, lad?"

Merlin smiled. He liked George, the man always treated him well and gave him a hand whenever Arthur had spontaneous hunt moments and decided the time it took his servant to saddle two horses was just too long.

"Actually, I was wondering..."

"If we could have your horses ready for the dawn set off tomorrow for the hunt?"

Merlin gaped. George simply smiled back at him, his hand reaching past Merlin to stroke the calm mare standing behind the boy.

"You aren't the first to have asked. Well, told. I'm surprised you remembered, Merlin, your master will be impressed."

"Doubt it," Merlin responded with a laugh. The only praise he would receive from Arthur would be to not get criticised quite as loudly in front of the king. Even so, Merlin was feeling rather proud of what he had managed to get organised that night. The sun had all but disappeared over the horizon now, sending shadows dancing into the stables as a few of the horses moved restlessly.

"On your way now, lad. I have work to do, and no doubt you need sleep to make sure you are up in time tomorrow." Grinning at George's pointed gaze, Merlin let himself be bustled out of the stables. The man had a point, he did need to get some rest. Even with having the afternoon off, he was still tired, although he knew that was because of the strain he had put on himself by practising the magic. Some things didn't drain him at all, but complex spells left him feeling exhausted. He knew that as he grew in strength, that would not be the case and there would be a time when nothing affected him physically, but all he knew now was that he needed sleep.

Even so, he couldn't resist a glance around the back of the stables, just to make sure. It came as no surprise that no one was there. After all, Merlin was the one who had turned the servants in to the prince; they weren't going to hang around waiting for him to discover more of what they were up too.

Deciding to push the matter from his mind, Merlin set off back towards the physician's chambers. With any luck, Gaius would have got all of his own work up straight and so would let his ward just crash.

In no time at all, Merlin had made the journey back to the chambers he called home. He hadn't been in Camelot that long, not in reality, and yet, for the first time, he did truly feel like he belonged. Which the warlock couldn't help but feel was slightly ironic considering it was the one place he would be executed if anyone was to find out who he truly was. But for now, dark thoughts were pushed from his mind as the servant fell onto his bed fully clothed. Within a matter of moments, he was fast asleep.

MMM

Surprisingly, Merlin slept well and was up in time to make the last minute preparations for the day that he was dreading. Thanks to the few jobs he had done the night before, he knew he didn't have to worry about food or the horses, Mary and George would see to that. All that remained was tipping his royal pratness out of bed, something that Merlin was not looking forward to. Considering Arthur didn't want to go on this hunt any more than his servant, Merlin knew he was about to have to tackle a prince in a bad mood.

He quickly changed his crumpled shirt for a clean one, retied his neckerchief and set off. Even knowing that he had to move quickly, he couldn't resist letting his eyes flash and drawing the covers further up over the physician. It had become something of a habit of late. Every time Merlin left the chambers at some unreasonable time, whether it be early morning or in the depths of the night, he made sure his guardian was warm. It was the least he could do considering every day Merlin lived with the physician, the old man was committing treason.

The castle was peacefully quiet as Merlin set off down the corridors. He knew that if he neared the kitchens, there would be the bustle of noise as servants prepared for another day in Camelot. But around the sleeping quarters, all was still and calm. Merlin wished he could have moments like this more often, then immediately shook himself and pushed the thought from his mind. No doubt Arthur would be happy to oblige if it meant dragging his servant out of bed at dawn more often.

It was because it was so quiet that Merlin really wasn't paying any attention to his surroundings. He knew the way to Arthur's chambers like the back of his hand. In fact, if it wasn't for his extreme talent at tripping over things anywhere vaguely near the ground; he would have said he could have done it with his eyes shut. All he knew was that he paid no attention to his surroundings in perhaps the way he should have done.

There was certainly no way he heard anything until a hand shot out of a small alcove. Merlin walked past this alcove several times a day, he had practically forgotten it existed. So when he was suddenly dragged into it, hitting the wall painfully as his attacker tried to navigate him into the small space, the servant found his heart thudding loudly. Despite being taken by surprise, Merlin immediately felt his magic rushing to his defence, preparing to blast whoever it was away. But he didn't have time to do so before another hand clamped around him, this time around his mouth as a strong arm wrapped around his chest. The originally hand sacrificed his grip and allowed the second to hold the struggling servant. Merlin forced the magic back, knowing that he had to know what was going on before he allowed his secret to be exposed.

As he was pulled deeper into the alcove, he knew they were hidden from sight by anyone who walked past. Finally, he managed to get a look at his attackers, and let out a groan that was muffled in the hand holding him. Yaren was standing in front of him, and as the light was blocked out from the main corridor, Merlin twisted his head awkwardly to see Harold's bulk shielding them from view even more. Merlin knew without having to look that it would be Tomas holding him. He jerked his head violently, and managed to dislodge the hand slightly.

"What are you doing? You know Arthur will have your heads if he sees you in the castle."

"He won't." Merlin felt shudders crawl down his spine at how relaxed Yaren seemed as the man leant against the wall, folding his arms across his chest and glaring impassively down at Merlin. "Providing of course, he's still alive."

"What are you going to do?" Merlin whispered. He wanted it to sound like he was scared, hoping it would make them relax a little. As soon as they weren't watching him quite as closely, he would be able to use magic to make his escape, run for it and tell Arthur.

"Nothing you need to worry about. Just the prince might meet with a little accident on this hunting trip." Merlin tensed in anger, thinking back on their words the day before about someone not riding out alone. It seemed he had just found out who, and judging by the harsh grip Tomas was holding him with, Merlin knew they would be prepared to do anything to make sure he wasn't accompanying the prince.

"You'll never get away with it."

"Oh, won't we? Who's going to stop us, Merlin, you? Face it, you are just his servant, it shouldn't matter to you. He treats you like dirt, its how all servants are treated. Don't think you are anyone special, boy."

Merlin dropped his head slightly at Yaren's words to hide the smirk playing across his lips. How wrong the ex-servant was. Arthur _did_ treat him differently, and no one could quite comprehend precisely how "special" the gangly servant was. He reacted suddenly, knowing he didn't have much time in order to warn Arthur. Driving his pointy elbow back into Tomas' stomach, he dropped to all fours as the man let go with a howl. Harold immediately stepped forward, only to have his feet shoot from under him as the rug moved slightly. Looking up as his eyes faded back to blue, Merlin scrambled forward. He leapt over the fallen Harold, only just clearing the man's snatching hand and shot off down the corridor.

Unfortunately, whilst Tomas and Harold might have been moaning pitifully, Yaren was not. The man was fast, and he shot out of the alcove after the fleeing Merlin. Hearing the sounds of pursuit, Merlin made the mistake of glancing back over his shoulder. He should have known that was a bad idea as his knees instantly collided with the small table standing on one corner, sending the servant tumbling forward.

Another flash of his eyes had Yaren narrowly avoided being tangled in a tapestry that suddenly came loose as the man ran underneath. But it was with a curse Merlin tried to get to his feet again, for Yaren _had_ managed to dodge it. His feet didn't seem to want to co-operate with the rest of his body, and Merlin had barely managed to get to his knees before Yaren was upon him, the figures of Harold and Tomas emerging from the alcove at the same time. Merlin couldn't stop the slight yelp slipping through his lips as Yaren grabbed him by his neckerchief, choking the servant as he pulled Merlin into a kneeling position.

"Like I said, you are no one special. I would say nothing personal, but considering it is because of you we are dodging guards every time we come near the castle, sorry, this _is_ personal." Merlin couldn't find the breath in order to respond to the man, his hands instead clutching around the material around his neck as he tried to prise it away. With spots beginning to dance slightly in his vision as Yaren twisted his hand, cutting off his air-supply even more, magic didn't even cross Merlin's mind.

He didn't have long to think about it though. Almost as soon as Yaren was done mocking him, both Harold and Tomas had caught up with them. Merlin felt a flicker of worry shoot through him as Yaren suddenly let go, causing Merlin to cough as he slumped forward. He had just shakily rested his hands on the ground, determined to take control of the situation when something solid crashed into the back of his head.

Merlin's hands immediately shot out from under him, and as he gave into the blackness, he was sent sprawling across the corridor. Tomas crouched down, lifting the servant's head by his hair before letting it slump back to the ground again.

"Completely out cold," he reported with a leer. Yaren nodded his approval and Harold grinned mockingly.

"Time to report back in then?" Harold half asked, half questioned as he glanced towards Yaren for instructions. Yaren nodded. It was time to get their master what he wanted.

MMM

"My Lord? Sire, you must wake." Arthur groggily turned over, a groan escaping from him. As he made to stick his head under the pillow, something stopped him. Normally Merlin would have snatched the pillow from him by now, just to stop that very action. But that hadn't been Merlin's voice...

Arthur shot upright, eyes wild as he stared around his room. After a few moments of wide eyed gazing, Arthur finally caught sight of a servant. A light breakfast was already laid out, and as Arthur watched, he brushed off an invisible speck of dirt from the breeches he was examining critically. When he caught sight of Arthur's movement, he turned towards the prince and bowed.

"Sire. Breakfast is waiting, My Lord." Arthur could only stare.

"Who are you?" He eventually blurted out, knowing he was sounding rude, but found that he didn't particularly care. "Where's Merlin?"

"The name is Ethan, Sire. As for where _Merlin_ is, I have no idea. I was merely summoned by someone this morning, saying His Royal Highness needed someone to attend on him because his servant had not shown up again."

"I'm going to bloody kill him."

"Of course, Sire." Ignoring the absentminded agreement, Arthur swung his legs out of bed. He had specifically told Merlin not to be late. But even so, there was something troubling the prince. Someone had told the servant that Merlin hadn't shown up? But no one would have known, not yet, anyway. What if there was something wrong with the idiot?

"Sire?" Glancing up, Arthur couldn't help but scowl as Ethan held out his clothes. He was too good at his job. With an eye roll as he disappeared behind his changing screen, Arthur had to revise his previous thought. He wasn't too good; he was just doing his job. Unlike a certain manservant Arthur could mention.

As Ethan gently but firmly hurried Arthur into getting ready, the prince had made up his mind. If Merlin thought he could slack off and send a boot-licker in his place, then he would certainly hear about it from his master. But it would have to wait until after the hunt, for even the Crown Prince was not going to risk the wrath of his father over Merlin, _again_.

Barely ten minutes later, and Arthur was fuming. He had no idea where his idiotic servant had got to, yet that stab of worry he was refusing to acknowledge was getting stronger. The stable master had looked confused when Merlin hadn't been following the prince, and when pushed, Arthur found the boy had been down the night before to make sure everything was ready. It was the same when Mary had turned up personally with the food, giving Arthur one of her swift, searching looks that made him feel like she was examining his soul when she realised the lanky youth wasn't present. If there was anyone that could make Arthur feel guilty for not knowing where Merlin was, it was Mary.

But the King had arrived swiftly after that, followed by Lord Banton and his son. Arthur tried not to shift in his saddle at the look Sebastian gave him, but said not a word. They probably didn't even notice that they were missing someone who should have been accompanying them out.

Unsurprisingly, Arthur's mind was not on the hunt as they took off into the forest. Despite it being his favourite past time – much to Merlin's annoyance – he hated going with the King. The copious amounts of guards that always had to accompany them meant they barely caught a thing. Today was to be no exception, and beginning to get annoyed about the complete _lack_of hunting they seemed to be doing, Arthur let his mind wonder. He may constantly moan about his servant, but it was unlike Merlin to not turn up at all. The procession out of the castle had certainly lasted long enough, Merlin would have had time to catch up even if he had been running late, or Gaius would have sent a message. What was even stranger was the fact that Ethan had known Merlin wouldn't be turning up. Who would have known to send a replacement servant but not think to inform the master of what was going on?

So preoccupied was he, Arthur wasn't alert as he normally was. He still noticed everything on ground level, knew by the splay of the hoof prints the deer they had been unsuccessfully tracking had broken into a run, knew that the wind was blowing in the wrong direction and that Lord Banton was talking way too loudly for anything in a mile radius to not have heard them coming.

But he didn't see, or even have an inclination, of the dark shadow following them, flitting from one tree to the next as it watched the royals. His eyes the only thing visible in the darkness of the cloak he was shrouded in, Greg smiled. Seemed his contacts had done their job and removed the boy. For whilst Greg wanted revenge on Merlin more than anything, and his master was growing impatient for Emyrs' blood, he first wanted to make it hurt. And what better way of doing that than by making Merlin come crawling to him?

Everyone who knew anything about the young warlock knew the easiest way to him was through the now unprotected prince.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for the fantastic support once again, really means a lot!**

Merlin opened his eyes with a muffled groan, feeling his head pound in time with his heartbeat. For a moment, he couldn't face lifting his head from where it was resting on his knees, but eventually, the pounding faded away a fraction. Merlin blinked slightly as he took in the dim light and cramped positioning of wherever he was. He was practically curled up, his knees hugging his chest in an attempt to clearly make him fit into the small area. As he lifted his hands to try and inspect the damage to his head, he frowned in confusion when he saw they were tied together.

_What __the __hell __had __happened?_

As he stared at his bound hands – just to add insult to injury, they were tied with his own neckerchief – Merlin felt the memories practically crash over him, making his head give another throb.

"Arthur!" He tried to scramble to his feet, but the restricted space meant he couldn't bring them under him properly, and ended up sitting back down rather too suddenly for his liking. Taking a deep breath, Merlin forced himself to keep calm.

"_Relashio.__"_ The muttered word made short work of untying his hands, and feeling slightly protective of the piece of material, Merlin carefully fastened his scarf back around his neck, taking a proper look around him as he did so.

Some of the obscure shapes surrounding him finally revealed themselves as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. Merlin finally realised where he was. It was some kind of storage cupboard, if the bucket and broom standing in the corner was anything to go by. A second groan escaped him. The three of them had certainly known what they were doing. It would be hours before anyone would come here. The servants who needed the equipment first thing in the morning would already have it, it was only people like Merlin who had a particular master to serve who would be sent running for the cupboard half way through the day when more chores were added on.

They had made sure no one would find him. Now his eyes had adjusted slightly, Merlin carefully pulled himself to his feet, using the side of the cupboard and a mop as support as he pulled himself upright, only to nearly bang his head on the top of the small storage room. Sometimes being tall certainly had its disadvantages. Pushing against the door, Merlin was not surprised to find that it was locked. Why would they go to the trouble of binding his hands if he would have just been able to walk out? Merlin couldn't help but smirk as he let the palm of his hand ghost over the handle.

"_Allinan.__" _He whispered quietly, but the resounding click as the door unlocked itself could be heard throughout the whole of the cupboard. Immediately, the door sprang open and Merlin all but toppled out at the sudden space that had been made available to him. His head spun slightly at the slight movement, but Merlin forced the pain aside and set off at a sprint towards Arthur's chambers. He had a destiny to protect, after all. Perhaps there was still a chance the prince hadn't left, instead waiting to berate his servant? If it had just been the two of them going on the hunt, Merlin knew that was a possibility. But with the King and a visiting noble accompanying them? There would be no way Arthur would risk it.

Sure enough, when Merlin proceeded to throw himself through the prince's door in his usual fashion, it was to find it empty. At least, he thought it was empty to start with, until a faint rustling drew his attention. His mind already on full alert after what had happened that morning, Merlin let the magic spring to his fingertips, ready to be blasted out at a simple command. For a moment, he couldn't locate what had made the noise, until he saw a figure standing up from behind Arthur's bed.

"Who are you?" He demanded, not realising he was mirroring practically the same tone Arthur had previously used when asking the very same question. The figure turned slightly, eyeing Merlin with disapproval.

"You must be Merlin." He said softly, his voice giving Merlin the shudders, although the warlock was not sure why. "The name is Ethan, I was asked to wait on his Royal Highness after his own servant failed to turn up for work this morning."

Despite the intended insult, Merlin's mind was racing.

"It was too early for anyone to know that I hadn't arrived." His voice was low and dangerous. If Arthur had heard him, he would have blinked in surprise at how threatening his clumsy servant could sound when the mood took him. "Who told you? What have you done with Arthur?"

"What have I done with him? I readied him for the hunt with his father, as you were supposed to do had you carried out your duties. As for who told me, no one knows, messages were passed throughout the servants that the prince needed a servant for the morning."

Merlin gritted his teeth in fury. The three of them truly had planned it out well, making sure that Arthur didn't have an excuse not to leave the castle that morning. Knowing that he was wasting time with this Ethan, Merlin took a breath, trying to control his temper. He knew what it was that was unnerving him about the man now. He was a bootlicker.

"The prince has a servant. Your services are no longer required." If looks could kill, Merlin would have dropped dead on the spot from the glance Ethan shot him, but the man still strode from the chambers. Merlin sagged in relief the second he was gone. The last time Arthur had tried to replace Merlin with a bootlicker for a servant; the man had almost destroyed the whole of Camelot, the prince along with it. Merlin felt he had every right to be worried.

But there was no time for that now. It was clear Arthur had indeed left for the hunt, and turning on his heel, Merlin fled from his master's chambers, racing down to the stables as fast as he could manage. There were very few people around, and as Merlin caught sight of the sun's positioning, he groaned. Whilst it was still early morning, the group could have easily been out for at least an hour. Enough time for Merlin to have great trouble in finding them again.

"Merlin!" Hearing his name being called, Merlin spun on the spot, nearly falling over his own feet in the process if it wasn't for a strong arm suddenly reaching out and steadying him. Merlin glanced up, then immediately looked away again.

"Thank you, Sire." He muttered quietly. Whilst he had nothing against Leon - he was a good man and an even better Knight - Merlin _really_ didn't have time for this now.

"Where have you been? Arthur was w...angry." They both knew what he had been about to say, and Merlin couldn't help but smile.

"I don't have time to explain now, my Lord, but I must go."

"What's going on, Merlin?" Meeting Leon's eye briefly, Merlin swallowed at the look he was getting. Leon looked suspicious, and whilst Merlin knew it was not directed at him as such, he was the reason for the look in the man's eye. The Knight seemed to have realised that where Arthur – and more likely than not, his servant as well – was concerned, trouble followed.

"I don't know." Merlin replied honestly. It was the truth, he didn't know what was going on, he just knew that he had to get out there after his master. Yaren's words were still echoing in his ears about Arthur being alive or not. "But he'll have me in the stocks for a month if I don't get out there."

So saying, Merlin pulled himself free of Leon's grip and raced for the stables, more than aware of the burning stare in his back as he went. No doubt he would have some explaining to do later. Although if he didn't come up with a better explanation for Arthur, Merlin knew _he_ would be the one lucky to be alive by the time they got back to Camelot.

He was in luck. The horse that had been saddled up for him that morning was still ready to go, clearly other duties had gotten in the way. Offering George a somewhat cheery wave and sheepish grin as he scrambled onto his mare's back, Merlin was out of the city gates within the blink of an eye. How many times had he raced out of these very gates, intent on saving the prince's life? It was just a shame that Arthur would never know.

For a while, Merlin just let the horse canter along in her own direction. All of the hunts took similar routes, and Merlin knew that she would be able to sense the others; she would somehow know where to go. If it came to it, he would use magic to make sure they were heading in the right direction, but something told him that he wouldn't need to go that far.

Eventually, he pulled her back into a walk, knowing the hunting party wouldn't have been travelling that fast and so there was a very good chance they were around here somewhere. Depending on what they had chosen to hunt determined how far into the forest they went. Knowing what Arthur was like, and how competition seemed to have sprung up between him and Lord Sebastian, Merlin knew that it was more likely than not going to be some sort of animal that had the potential to kill them with just its eyes or something equally dramatic like that. Despite everything that had happened to him that morning, Merlin knew there was a reason why he didn't like Arthur going hunting without him. The royal was just too much of a magnet for trouble, especially where mysterious beasts with deadly properties were involved. It was going to be a long time before Merlin could shake the memories of Arthur lying unconscious after the Questing Beasts attack, or the Griffin.

After what felt like an age to the ever-increasingly worried warlock, he caught a sound up ahead, causing him to smile in relief. A horse whined slightly, and Merlin's own steed responded, tossing her head in distress. Immediately, Merlin felt his magic spark to life. These were war-trained horses, the best in Camelot. A hunt shouldn't have them spooked. Slipping from the saddle, he floated the reins over to the nearest tree, lashing them firmly to an outstretched branch. If she pulled, it would hold. But if she was terrified and tried to run for her life, Merlin had made sure they would allow her to do so. He wasn't going to let the faithful horse be killed whilst he investigated.

Giving her one last pat – almost as an apology for leaving her here – Merlin crept forward. Pushing his way through a particularly dense bit of undergrowth – not noticing if he took five paces to the left it would have been clear – he reached out with his magic, trying to determine what was going on. He wasn't sure whether he should be relieved that all he could hear was the horses. That either meant the hunting party had gone on by foot, or something a lot worse... Merlin had a horrible feeling he knew which one it was more likely to be, this was _Arthur_ they were talking about, after all.

As he felt his foot connect with something solid, Merlin glanced down, swallowing hard. He knew it would have been the latter of the two options. He bent down over the unconscious guard, his fingers brushing against the man's neck. Good, he was still alive. It meant there was still hope yet.

"_Ostendo __sum__ut __mihi __quis__est__ien s__in.__" _The spell was barely audible as Merlin breathed it out, feeling the flow of power rush through him as a light seemed to shoot into the clearing he knew lay just ahead. No one else would be able to see it, but it would give him more of an idea of what was going on. Within only seconds, he knew he was dealing with powerful magic. Dark magic at that. He couldn't determine exactly what he was about to walk in on, but Merlin was prepared, his power filling him, ready to flow out of him at the simplest of commands.

Standing up from where he was crouched, Merlin stole forward, taking shelter behind a tree as he tried to assess the situation. He could just about see into the clearing, but the sight that met his wondering gaze made his heart sink even further, if that was still possible. Arthur was the only one still conscious. The King and Lord Banton were over on the far side, their positions clearly showing they had been thrown from their horses. Guards surrounded the area, all still. Merlin only hoped the situation was the same as with the guard he had found and that they had merely been knocked out. After a few minutes of searching, his eyes finally fell on Lord Sebastian, stretched out almost gracefully across the floor. In a way, Merlin found that surprised him. Considering what he had overheard, he assumed the young Lord would be the one left conscious, no doubt the one orchestrating the entire attack.

But Merlin didn't have time to think about the young man. Instead, his eyes were drawn to Arthur. The royal was pinned against a tree, magic clearly being used to hold him there considering Merlin could see no signs of restraints.

"Show yourself, you coward!" In all of Merlin's experiences, that wasn't normally the best thing to say, but common sense never seemed to take hold in Arthur's mind when there was an attack, especially one of a magical source. In response, the prince was merely pulled forward slightly, before being slammed back into the tree. Not that he would ever tell Arthur this, but Merlin was impressed when not a sound of pain crossed the prince's lips, although his glare deepened. No wonder whoever it was didn't want to show themselves, for if looks could kill, they wouldn't stand a chance. Maybe it would make it easier for the secret warlock to find and dispatch whoever the sorcerer was without Arthur ever finding out his wayward servant was here?

Taking another glance into the clearing, he knew that wouldn't work. Whoever this was clearly seemed to be growing impatient, and as Merlin watched, thick ropes formed out of nowhere. Arthur flinched back, but the magic was holding him in place as the ropes floated towards him. Merlin knew the time had come, and without further ado, he sped into the clearing.

"Merlin! What the hell are you doing here?" Sure enough, Arthur's disbelieving exclamation greeted him as the prince was momentarily distracted from the ropes. No sooner had he spoken did Arthur give a cry of outrage, and as Merlin turned, saw the ropes beginning to bind the prince. Despite the fact that Arthur was struggling hard, he seemed to have forgotten that he was fighting against magic, and so was helpless against the bonds. He was dropped from the tree, but his hands and feet tied before he even had the chance of thinking of getting up. Immediately, Merlin ran over.

"Get out of here, you idiot!" Arthur hissed, struggling against the ropes whilst trying to look around. This was not a new scenario. How many bandits/sorcerers decided they were going to either use him as bait or as a ransom before Arthur stopped them? He just didn't want his servant getting caught up in the middle of it. When the first of the guards had dropped silently, he had actually been thankful that the younger man was not around, but in true Merlin fashion, he had shown up just as things got dangerous.

"Oh shut up." Merlin snapped, dropping to his knees next to the restrained prince. Considering the glare his master shot him, Merlin briefly contemplated leaving him tied up, but found his hands moving of their own accord. Ignoring Arthur's hiss of discomfort, he slipped his hand into the prince's boot, pulling out the dagger he knew the man always hid there. Ironically, he claimed that it was for occasions like this, although Merlin was sure it was supposed to be Arthur himself using it, not his servant. In all reality, it didn't take him very long to saw through the bonds holding the man, and no sooner had Arthur regained feeling again, he sprang to his feet. One hand entwined itself in Merlin's collar, and he pulled his servant to his feet, slamming him against the same tree he himself had been held against.

"Where the hell have you been?" He practically snarled. Merlin simply stared back at him, resisting the urge to roll his eyes even as his hand closed around Arthur's scrunched one, trying to get the prince to lessen his grip on the front of his shirt. He only had so many, he didn't need Arthur destroying them on top of everything else. Not to mention he didn't think rolling his eyes at the angry prince would go down too well, especially considering his head was still spinning slightly from the earlier blow.

"Sorcerer, remember?" He practically gasped, and Arthur immediately let go.

"Yeah. Right." If anything, Arthur sounded a little sheepish, and Merlin couldn't help but grin fondly at his master. That would be the closest thing to an apology he was going to get for the man's rash behaviour. Arthur turned back to face the clearing, his eyes momentarily falling on his sword across the clearing.

"Arthur. Don't." Merlin knew precisely what he was going to do, and sure enough, Arthur completely ignored his words and made to sprint towards the weapon. He had barely gone five paces when he fell to his knees, clutching at his head.

"Arthur!" The yell slipping past his lips, Merlin ran towards his master. Arthur wasn't the only one who forgot about common sense when it came to his friends being in danger. Sure enough, Merlin only made it the same distance before he felt it. It was as if a mental probe had just slammed into the side of his head, immediately dropping him to his knees as his vision swam black for a moment. Merlin let out a cry of pain, mirroring Arthur's actions and clutched at his head. It was the most intense thing he had ever felt, driving into him without relent.

"_I __expected __so __much __more, __Emrys.__"_ Merlin gasped as a voice echoed through his head. He knew that voice, although it was tinged with a darkness that even the sadistic servant hadn't possessed before. But what concerned Merlin even more was that Greg suddenly seemed to know who he was. This was so not good.

"_Greg, __stop __Let...let __Arthur __go...__" _Even talking mentally proved to be a challenge, and Merlin was thrown on his back with another cry as the pain throbbed again.

"_When __he __is __so __useful? __No, __my __master __wants __you __both. __Especially __you, __Emrys.__"_ Merlin thought he was going to throw up as Greg suddenly materialised in the clearing, making Arthur hiss in fury before the man's black eyes turned on him and Arthur's face contorted in pain. Unlike his servant, he managed to keep the cries in. This was not the Greg who had left Camelot in disgrace all those months ago. Something had clearly happened to him, and as Merlin tried to peer up at him, he would even go as far as saying the man was possessed. Feeling that level of pure evilness oozing from him, Merlin had to admit he felt sorry for Greg. Whether he knew what he had been getting himself into or not, the warlock knew there was no way he would come back from it.

"You're a coward, Greg..." Arthur spat, his voice broken with harsh pants as he tried to stop himself from blacking out. Greg's eyes finally snapped from Merlin onto the prince, and his hand instantly stretched out towards the man.

"You will learn to treat me with respect, Pendragon." His voice was dripping malice, and Merlin knew there was barely a trace of the old Greg left. Just enough for his revenge to be personal. For what else could this be, after the way the pair of them had treated him?

"Respect? I'll die first..." Merlin groaned, although this was not one of pain but of sheer annoyance. When would Arthur learn to keep his mouth shut? Greg seemed to be thinking along the same lines, for a beam of light shot out of his hand, striking Arthur straight in the chest. As the prince was forced onto his back, Merlin made himself concentrate through the pain spiking through his head. It wasn't helping that it was making his earlier injury known once again. Greg was distracted, approaching the fallen prince with glee as Arthur was held fast, and Merlin knew this may be his only chance. Rolling over slightly so he was facing away from Arthur, he began whispering under his breath.

"_Solvo __me i__quod __procer__mens.__" _He felt the build up of power behind his eyes, felt the magic leave him, and just like that, the pain was gone. He heard Arthur suck in a sharp breath and heard Greg cry out in fury as he rolled back over, climbing unsteadily to his feet. Arthur was still pinned to the floor, but Merlin knew by the look on his face that Greg no longer had a hold over his mind. Merlin stumbled forward a pace, wondering if Greg would realise it was him who had freed them. Judging by the jet black gaze that shot up to meet his, he had indeed realised.

Before Merlin could comprehend what was happening, Greg had thrown his hand out towards the warlock. Merlin didn't have time to think of anything that would help him as he was suddenly thrown across the clearing. Even as he tried to sit back up again, Greg materialised in front of him. Now that spell was just going to get irritating.

Merlin didn't have the chance to comment on it before Greg had reached down. With one hand, he lifted the warlock to his feet and slammed him against the tree, similar to the way Arthur had, only his hand found Merlin's throat.

"This isn't over. My master always gets what he wants. You, Emrys," his fist restricted slightly as he shook Merlin, "will give him what he wants."

"Never." Merlin snarled, only to gasp as he found breathing was suddenly becoming very difficult. Greg's eyes lit up with glee, until he was forcefully pulled away without warning. Merlin's interruption had broken the spell over the prince, and after a few moment, Arthur had been able to climb to his feet. His sword was in his hand as he bodily pulled the sorcerer away from his servant, laying his sword point against Greg's neck.

"You are hereby charged with treason and found guilty." His voice was low and dangerous, and Greg seemed to realise it. Uttering a few short commands, a magical wind threw Arthur away from him and the insane man promptly disappeared into thin air. Arthur span wildly on the spot for a moment.

"Where is he?"

"_This __isn__'__t __over, __Pendragon_." As the voice echoed throughout the clearing, Merlin pulled himself away from the tree, catching the prince's eye momentarily as Arthur glared around him. After a moment, he seemed to relax, throwing his sword into the ground whilst watching Merlin out of the corner of his eye.

"You okay?" He eventually asked, somewhat gruffly, but received a nod in response. "What happened?"

"I don't know, Arthur." Merlin felt exhausted, sitting down and resting his back against the very same tree. How could it only have been mid-morning considering everything the day had thrown at him so far? "But I do know who else is involved."

He knew it was the right time to tell Arthur about the three ex-servants. Depending on how well the prince took the news, Merlin was even considering informing him of his suspicions about Lord Sebastian. Glancing over at the man, he saw him begin to stir slightly, and knew that if he was going to say anything, it was going to have to be now. By the time they reached Camelot, Arthur would have slipped firmly back into his princely role and so would be reluctant to believe anything his servant said about a noble, even if said servant was a friend who had proven on more than one occasion that he was prepared to die for the blond.

"Who?" Merlin opened his mouth to respond, but instead found himself frowning. It was as if there was a strange ringing in his ears, and although he had heard Arthur's words, it was as if they were being muted, almost as if he was hearing them under water. He frowned up at the prince, watching Arthur's mouth move, but unable to hear what was being said. Arthur's face morphed into one of annoyance, quickly followed by concern as he crouched down next to his servant, gripping his upper arms somewhat tightly. Merlin tried to speak, tried to tell his master that something was wrong.

Before he could do so, a piercing pain shot through his head. It was the same probe as before, but far more intense. Merlin didn't have the chance to use magic, his mouth forming a slight "o" of surprise before he slumped forward, only not hitting the ground because of Arthur's grip. For the second time that day, he was completely unconscious.

"_I __told __you __this __wasn__'__t __over.__"_ Arthur felt his breath hitch in his throat as Merlin passed out, his heart beating fast at the voice echoing throughout the clearing.

"What have you done?" His angry shout filtered away to nothing. Eventually, there came a response, but it was not from Greg.

"Arthur! What are you shouting about, where's the sorcerer? Is that your _servant?_" Arthur wanted to roll his eyes. He knew he hated hunting with his father.

"The sorcerer has fled, Sire. My apologies, I was unable to stop him. But I will find him. And yes, Merlin's here." Without so much as glancing at the King, he stood up, draping his servant over his shoulder and heading back to his horse.

"Arthur, stop. Just where do you think you are going?"

"The guards will see to your protection, My Lord." Arthur responded formally, slinging Merlin up over the saddle before leaping nimbly on himself. Hoisting Merlin into a more upright position, Arthur leant his servant back against him as he took hold of the reins around the skinny boy. "I have to get him to Gaius."

He heard Uther's angry command for him to _stop_ right now, but Arthur did no such thing. He had no idea what had happened to Merlin to make him so late that morning, but the boy had an excuse to not come out to the forest when he realised the hunting party had left without him. And yet he still did, taking on a sorcerer in an attempt to protect Arthur, _again._ He was really going to have to talk to his servant about this protection thing he seemed to have got stuck in his head. But for that to happen, he had to be conscious.

He touched his heels to his horse's flanks, and with the King's angry shouts at him to come back ringing in his ears, Arthur cantered towards Camelot.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much once again for all of the lovely reviews/alerts etc, they really mean the world!**

Arthur made it back to Camelot in almost record time. George merely gave him a long look of concern as the prince jumped from the saddle, swinging Merlin over his back as he did so. The faithful stable master simply took the reins and said nothing as Arthur set off as quickly as he could manage with an unconscious servant over his back. By the time he had reached Gaius's chambers, the boy had begun mumbling something incoherent, his limbs beginning to thrash slightly. Arthur couldn't make out what was being said, but there was something strangely unearthly about it, almost powerful. It was making the hairs on the back of his arms stand up, and quite frankly, the prince didn't like it.

Entering Gaius's chambers with far more noise than was strictly necessary, Arthur held back a sigh when he saw the concern leap immediately into the physician's eyes as he hurried over as fast as he could. His father had yelled at him not to turn his back, not once looking vaguely concerned Arthur had just under gone an attack whilst they were all conveniently unconscious on the forest floor. Gaius' reaction was the complete opposite, and Arthur couldn't help but feel that was how a father should behave.

"Sire! What happened?"

"Greg." Arthur responded simply, striding over and depositing the servant on the bed. Merlin was beginning to thrash with more strength now, his mumbling getting louder even though Arthur still couldn't make out what was being said. With a frown on his face, he bit his lip as he stared down at the boy, not seeing the way Gaius's eyes widened in horror as he recognised what was coming out of Merlin's mouth.

"The servant?" He asked, his voice almost too controlled. Ever so carefully, he inched past Arthur, plucking the pot out from mid-air. Whatever had been done to the warlock, his magic was trying to fight it off. The only problem was, Merlin obviously had no control. He was just lucky he hadn't done anything on the way over to Gaius's chambers, for the physician did not particularly want to have to be the one to explain to a concerned looking prince why there was a pot floating behind his head...or why the mop seemed to have taken on a life of its own. Glancing towards the door, Gaius knew he had to act fast.

"Help me get him to his own room, Sire. He will be more comfortable there." Arthur looked confused. Why would Gaius want to move his ward to somewhere that had far less access? Before Arthur could press for answers, Merlin gave some sort of cry and Gaius snapped at him to move the servant, _now_. Startled into action, Arthur grabbed one of Merlin's arms and one of his legs and draped the boy over his shoulder. As he stumbled for the stairs that would give him access to Merlin's room, he didn't see Gaius snatch yet another of his many potion pots out of thin air, nor give the mop a somewhat terrifying glare. Arthur deposited Merlin on his bed just as Gaius came in the door behind him. The candle on the other side of the room suddenly set itself alight, but Arthur was too busy staring at Merlin to notice.

"Why does he always put himself in harm's way? Gaius, I think something happened to him this morning, he was so late..."

"Sire, you must leave him, just in case it is contagious." Gaius hoped Arthur wouldn't be able to hear how frantic his voice was as another candle flickered into life, one of Merlin's discarded shirts beginning to put itself away behind Arthur's back. This was getting out of hand.

"Then I would have already been exposed. He tried to save me again today. I'm not just going to leave him."

"Sorry, Sire, you have no choice. It's for Merlin's own good." Grabbing a protesting Arthur by the arm, Gaius forcibly dragged the prince from the room, slamming the door shut behind him. As soon as they were down the stairs, Arthur wrenched his arm from Gaius's surprisingly strong grip and whirled around, sparks flying from his eyes.

"What the hell was that? I demand you tell me!" For a moment, Gaius was lost for words. How was he going to explain his sudden irrational behaviour? But then he caught sight of the way Arthur's brow was furrowed and he smiled sympathetically.

"When were you going to tell me about that headache of yours?" He asked gently, pulling around a stool and pushing it towards the prince.

"Never, because I _don__'__t __have __one._ What's wrong with Merlin?" Gaius merely raised an eyebrow.

"Arthur, I've treated you since before you can remember. What in the world makes you think you can lie to me about how you are feeling?" Gaius refused to answer the Merlin question. At the moment, he had no answers that would satisfy the prince, and if it was any other situation, Gaius would have been pleased. It wasn't all that long ago where Arthur wouldn't have shown a flicker of concern for those under his protection. This was certainly something new, but unfortunately, it had come at the wrong moment. Instead, Gaius just pressed the matter about the prince's own health, nudging the stool closer until Arthur took the hint and finally sat down.

"Okay, I've got a slight one. I did just have a sorcerer try and invade my mind." He rubbed his hand across his forehead, his eyes screwing shut slightly. "I've had worse th...argh!" Whatever Arthur was about to say was suddenly cut off as both of his hands flew to his head. The prince almost doubled over where he sat, his eyes now firmly shut and his face going a strange ashen complexion. Gaius sighed. He had hoped Arthur would grow out of the migraines his childhood had been littered with, and for the best part, he had. It appeared that the latest attack however, had just brought one on. Gaius felt horrible. Never had he been so glad for the distraction.

He almost silently stood up, moving across to his shelves and plucking a bottle from it. For a split second, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder at Arthur. The prince had his palms pressed against his eyes, completely oblivious to what the physician was up to. Deftly pulling out the stopper of both bottles, he then mixed the contents together and replaced the cap on one before moving back across to Arthur.

"Here, Sire." He said gently, his voice low, calm and soothing. "Your usual."

"It doesn't work," Arthur groaned, the pain laced in his voice. Gaius had never seen one come on this quickly with this extremity, and he knew he needed answers about what had happened out there. But Arthur was not the one who could provide those answers.

"Please, just try it. For me?" Adding the last part on as almost an after-thought, Gaius smiled when Arthur sighed, stretching out one hand but still keeping his eyes firmly shut. That particular phrase had always made the normal defiant prince do whatever Gaius wanted, ever since he could talk.

It worked once again. Without opening his eyes, Arthur pulled the stopper out with his teeth, ignoring Gaius's tut of disapproval, and downed the contents, only to immediately grimace afterwards.

"Can't you do anything to improve the flavour?"

"Sorry, Sire." Gaius said no more though, instead watching Arthur closely. Within a couple of moments, the bottle fell from his hand, smashing over the floor.

"Gaius, I feel...I don't..." Arthur's words were slurred, and how he managed it, Gaius had no idea. But somehow, he managed to get the prince on his feet, over to the main bed and lying down just before the drug took hold completely and Arthur sagged back, fast asleep. For a moment, Gaius just watched Arthur sleep, watched the concerns and responsibilities drain from his face before standing up. He had an out-of-control warlock to sort out.

His foot had barely even touched the bottom step when the door banged open violently, causing the aged physician to jump. He turned, fully intending to scold whoever it was about the proper decorum when entering one's chambers, but the words died on his lips as Uther strode in, looking furious. By accident, Gaius found his eyes flickering to Merlin's shut door as the King took a few more steps into the room. He just hoped that Merlin's magic was beginning to control itself a little more, or there was going to be big problems.

"Where's Arthur?" Uther demanded, his angle meaning the bed on which his son was sprawled was blocked from his vision. "I'll have him thrown in the dungeons for this, disobeying his King for the sake of a servant. Again. In front of visiting nobles as well. He is the Crown Prince, he should know better."

"Sire, I do not believe it was as simple as that." Gaius said quietly, suddenly hit by an idea. There was only one way he could think of that would get Arthur out of helping his friend, and with any luck, it would protect Merlin from the King's wrath as well. For Gaius was more than aware who would truly bear the brunt of the punishment.

"It's perfectly simple, physician. Arthur disobeyed me, he must pay the price."

"Sire..." Gaius moved out of the way, gesturing for Uther to look behind the screen. For a long moment, the King merely gave Gaius a suspicious look, and the physician thought he wasn't going to move. Finally, Uther peered behind the screen, and although no sound escaped him, Gaius could see the way his shoulders tensed at seeing his heir spread out, motionless.

"What happened?" The anger in Uther's voice had all but disappeared as he demanded answers. The tension and bite would have made most men quiver at that voice, but Gaius knew Uther better than that. He knew it was the King's way of showing he was concerned for his son. Gaius couldn't focus on that right now, however. He had a story to spin, and hope that he could make it convincing. He had never been so relieved to have drugged Arthur, although he knew the prince would probably never be aware of the confrontation taking place around him whilst he slept.

"He collapsed, Sire." Gaius invented, sending a look of genuine sorrow towards Arthur. He wished that Uther would just be able to be proud of his son for who Arthur was, not who Uther wanted him to be. "I fear the attack did something to his mind. He made it back to Camelot, but then the guards turned up at my door with him. Both the prince and his servant were unconscious, Sire. They put Merlin in his room and I've been treating Arthur ever since."

"What's wrong with him?" Despite the demanding tone still being present in his voice, Gaius could sense the King was softening.

"Hopefully nothing long term. The attack on his mind simply overwhelmed his senses when he arrived back. No doubt his sense of duty of returning to Camelot was all that kept him going. I doubt he disobeyed you, Sire. It was more than likely he couldn't think straight at all, and didn't even hear you properly." Gaius paused, waiting to see how Uther would react. He just hoped the King would accept his story, for he pushed for more detailed answers, Gaius didn't have them. He had just invented the whole thing off the top of his head, after all.

Gaius was practically holding his breath as the King remained motionless, staring down at his sleeping son. The physician had a horrible feeling Uther was about to question things, state something about Arthur still knowing his place. But it was the prince himself that managed to tip the balance in their favour. Whether there was a part of him that could sense the atmosphere in the room, or whether it was genuine distress, Arthur suddenly moaned.

Uther's eyes immediately snapped to his son's face. A deep frown was resting there, and Gaius knew it was the migraine, he had seen the look before. But all Uther was seeing was Arthur's face contorted with pain, his head tossing away as he shifted restlessly, another moan slipping past his lips. Gaius knew in that one moment, the King believed his story. For a moment, Gaius could see the flicker of indecision cross Uther's face, the need to be the controlling king battling against wanting to be a father. But as per usual, the King won out and Uther began to sweep from the room.

Just before he left, he paused in the doorway. He didn't turn his head, but his words were more than audibly.

"See he reports to me when he is conscious."

"Yes, Sire." Gaius immediately acknowledged, bowing slightly as Uther finally left. Crossing the room and shutting the door behind him, he sighed in relief. It had worked. With any luck, both Arthur and Merlin had been saved the King's wrath. But Gaius knew it was more than that. By ordering Arthur to report to him, it was Uther's way of checking up on his son, of making sure he was okay. Just as Gaius had begun walking back across his chambers, two things happened simultaneously. Arthur gave another moan, and something crashed into the back of Merlin's door with a thud. Gaius sighed. He had two young men to sort out, both too stubborn to know what was good for them.

Arthur was his first priority. Not because he was a prince, but because he was just going to be easier to calm. Gaius took no time at all in picking up another phial and crossing over to the bed. Sitting on the edge, he gently tipped Arthur's head back. Pinching his nose lightly, he forced the tonic down the young man's throat. For a moment, Arthur struggled against his grip, but as the tonic began to combine with the sleeping draught and pain relief, he sagged again. Within seconds, he had fallen into a deeper sleep, all traces of pain once more absent from his face. For a moment, Gaius just watched him.

He couldn't deny how much Merlin meant to him, the boy was like the son he had never had. But Gaius knew he would always hold a special place in his heart for the young confident prince. He had been involved in Arthur's upbringing, had seen the man at his most vulnerable even more times than Merlin had. It had been Gaius Arthur had run too when something was wrong, not his father. Watching him now, marvelling in the way he had disobeyed the king without a second thought in order to get Merlin back to the physician, he knew the makings of a true king were beginning to show. If only Uther could see it.

As there came another thud from Merlin's room, Gaius stood up with a grin. Arthur may hold a place in Gaius's heart, but he knew who he truly considered a son. He was constantly getting himself into trouble with his charming smile and pure heart, but Gaius wouldn't have him any other way, despite what the lectures might otherwise imply. Turning towards the stairs, Gaius quickened his pace when there came yet another bang. Something told him Merlin was going to be a harder challenge to calm down than his master had been.

Gaius couldn't stop a gasp from escaping him as he stepped into his ward's room. Whilst it was always messy, this was beyond anything that even Gaius had seen. After picking his way precariously across the floor, he stared down at the bed. Merlin had moved since Arthur had placed him on the bed, his head now firmly buried under the pillow, knuckles white from where he was gripping it.

"I know you're awake, Merlin." For a moment, Merlin's whole body seemed to tense before he slowly drew his head out from under the pillow. He continued to stare at it though, doing nothing to acknowledge Gaius's presence.

"Arthur?" The physician was hard pushed not to roll his eyes. Despite the tale he had told Uther, it had only been the servant who had returned unconscious, and yet as per usual, Merlin was worrying about the prince.

"Is fine. Merlin..." Before he could continue, the warlock's wardrobe gave an almighty shudder, and Merlin immediately stuck his head back under the pillow.

"I can't stop it, Gaius!"

"Merlin, listen to me." Gaius moved across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. After a moment of having to wrestle against the warlock, he finally pulled the pillow away. Grabbing Merlin's chin, he turned the boy's head to face him. He wasn't surprised to see Merlin's eyes burning gold.

"Listen to me." Gaius repeated; his tone slightly more sympathetic when he caught sight of the concentration in Merlin's expression. The warlock was clearly fighting whatever this was with everything he had, and it was costing him to do so. "Unless you want me to knock you out, you have to pull it back in."

"I can't!" Merlin cried, pulling himself out of the physician's grip and sticking his head back under the pillow again. Maybe if he couldn't see objects, they wouldn't be able to move on their own accord. He should have known though. No sooner had he done so when something fell over in the far corner. His magic had never stuck by the normal rules, whatever they might be.

"Enough!" Gaius snapped, beginning to lose his patience at Merlin's defeated attitude. "If you are truly a warlock, you can. Nothing can tamper with your power apart from you, Merlin. Direct the magic to the curse, send its energy there. And if you dare say you can't do that either, then I am going to knock you out before the King comes back and takes off your head."

"Gaius!" Little did Merlin realise that his reaction of shock and disbelief at his mentor's blunt words was exactly what Gaius had been hoping for. The flash of anger Merlin felt at Gaius believing he wasn't trying drove his magic back drove through him for a second, and just like that, Merlin was back in control. His change in emotions had startled the magic. Following the physician's advice, he shut his eyes to concentrate better. He couldn't pull the magic in, but Gaius was right, he was still the one in control of it.

For a long moment, everything in the room fell silent, not even a whisper of the breeze swirling through the open window could be heard. Merlin was fighting internally. Whatever Greg had done was strong, but he knew Gaius had a point. He was stronger. Finally, he managed to re-establish his grip on the magic, and began forcing it into himself, directing it mentally to where he could feel the effects of whatever Greg had hit him with. His magic had been combating it this entire time, but only wisps of the magic had made it that far; the rest had simply escaped into the surrounding area without Merlin there to direct them. Now, however, Merlin could direct it.

Gaius watched, hypnotised after a quick check to make sure the door was shut, as Merlin almost seemed to light up from the inside. Even through his shut eyelids, the gold could be seen, dominating everything. But it wasn't just his eyes. It was almost as if a golden mist had surrounded the warlock, swirling around him with a grace and poise Merlin could never manage himself. It seemed to almost pulse as it danced through the air, and through all his years as Court Physician, Gaius knew it was the magic healing his ward.

Finally, the mist drew back, looking for entire world like it was being sucked back into Merlin, and the warlock opened his eyes. For a moment, they did still glow golden, but it was not the same intensity as before. Even as Gaius watched, the colour faded and the normal vibrant blue took its place, causing the old man to let out an audible sigh of relief.

"Well done, Merlin."

"Might have been easier if you weren't threatening to chop my head off." Merlin muttered, but there was no heat in his voice and his normal smile flickered onto his face. He knew full well what Gaius had been trying to do, and the fact that it had worked meant Merlin could feel no anger towards his guardian. For his part, Gaius simply smiled in his mysterious way and turned to leave the room.

"Get cleaned up, Merlin."

"Wait...Gaius, how's Arthur? How did you manage to get him out of here? He didn't..." Seeing a spark of panic leap into the boy's eyes, the physician shook his head, hovering in the door way.

"No, Merlin, he did not see anything. I managed to get him out of here before he noticed quite what you were mumbling." Merlin blushed, dropping his gaze. "He's asleep."

He should have known his words would do nothing to reassure the servant.

"Asleep? But Gaius," Merlin glanced out of the window, wondering if he had been unconscious for longer than he had realised. But the sun was still high, a clear sign it was still the morning. "It's early. Why is he asleep?"

"Migraine." Gaius responded simply, turning and leaving properly this time. He trudged his way down the stairs and glanced at the prince, satisfied with just one look there was nothing more he could do for Arthur. He was sleeping peacefully now, and Gaius knew by the time the drugs wore off, the man would be feeling a lot better. Hearing a clatter behind him, he was hard pushed not to roll his eyes. One day, Merlin was going to trust what Gaius said about Arthur's health rather than having to see it for himself.

"Since when did Arthur get migraines?" The warlock exclaimed, sounding incredulous as if he was expecting this to be another of Gaius' tricks. He stopped dead when he saw Arthur, spread out and motionless, the smashed bottle still on the floor from where he had dropped it. He certainly hadn't expected the prince to still be in the physician's chambers, and to Merlin's mind, that was just a sign that something was indeed wrong. Gaius heard his ward's sharp intake of breath, and sighed.

"He's had them for as long as I've known him. He used to get them a lot as a child, but over the last few years, they have eased completely." As he spoke, Gaius suddenly realised something. This was the first one Arthur had had since Merlin had arrived in Camelot. The physician always believed the child's pain was based on Arthur being so desperate to do something that his father would be proud of, resulting in stress and pressure no ten year old should try and shoulder. But since Merlin had arrived, everyone had seen how much Arthur had changed. Gaius wondered whether he was the only one who noticed how much Arthur had _relaxed_. He didn't have to pretend around the warlock, for the first time ever, he had a way of voicing what he was feeling without being scared of judgement.

For years, Gaius had been forced to tell an anxious – and slightly irritated – King he had no remedy for his only heir's ailment. But now, watching Merlin perch on the edge of the stool by Arthur's bed, gazing at his sleeping master with a frown of concern on his face, Gaius smiled. He had just found the cure. Merlin.

"How long will he be asleep for?"

"Another couple of hours at least," Gaius admitted, knowing Merlin would understand what wasn't being said and that it was because of Gaius that Arthur was now lost in dreams. "So you should go and get some rest and come up with some answers about what happened out there today."

Merlin nodded distractedly. He took another look at Arthur and stood up, meandering back to his room. He didn't intend on getting any more rest, but instead would attempt to see if his spell book had any answers about what had happened out there today. He knew Greg had used powerful magic; there could be no denying that. But there had been something else about him, something that seemed to suggest Greg wasn't entirely himself. Merlin didn't like the man, there could be no denying that, not after the way Greg had treated not only the warlock, but those around him. But he had sensed something much darker out there today, and knew that, personal feelings aside, Greg was in trouble.

A few hours later, and a small knock on his door gave Merlin enough warning to stuff the book down the back of his bed before Gaius poked his head in, eyes twinkling at the fact Merlin looked like he was just sitting there doing nothing. He knew full well what the young man had been up too for the majority of the morning.

"Lunch is ready, Merlin. And Arthur should be stirring soon." A smile washed over Merlin's face and he all but scrambled off the bed. Gaius knew full well it was not the call of food that his ward almost running for the door. His predictions about Arthur were spot on. No sooner had Merlin once again taken the stool, Arthur shifted position slightly.

Gaius was over like a shot, reading the prince's body language. The beginnings of a frown were making its way onto his face, and sighing, the physician picked up the bottle he had waiting on the table.

"Arthur? Sire?" A slight moan met his call, and Gaius sighed. He should have known this would have been a bad one considering what had brought it on.

"Gaius? Is he alright? Can't you do something?"

"Shut up, Merlin." The voice was barely audible, nothing more than a groan, but as Merlin turned back to the bed, Arthur's eyes opened, clouded and full of pain. Gaius smiled sympathetically.

"Help me." Immediately, Merlin leapt off the stool, knowing what the old man wanted him to do. He slipped on the bed behind Arthur's head, wrapping his arm around Arthur's shoulders and forcing the prince into a more upright position. Arthur looked as if he was going to protest, but even Merlin could feel how much his master was sagging against him. Merlin had been able to fight of whatever Greg had thrown at them, but even if he had received less than his servant, Arthur was struggling to do the same.

Gaius pulled the stopper out of the bottle, and with Merlin's help, managed to tip the contents down Arthur's throat.

"That's disgusting."

"That's what you say every time, Sire, until it works." Arthur had no comeback for that, and instead let Merlin sit him against the pillows without complaining for once. But as soon as his servant moved back around to the front, his hand shot out and he grabbed the younger man by the wrist.

"What happened to you?" He demanded. There was a time when Merlin took it as being rude, but now he knew it was just Arthur's way of asking whether he was alright. It was amazing how the prince never directly said what was on his mind, and yet Merlin seemed to know what he was talking about all the same.

"I woke up," Merlin responded dismissively, working his hand out of Arthur's grip and sitting back down on the stool, making sure he was out of the prince's reach even as he watched his master closely. "Why didn't you tell me about the migraines?"

Arthur shifted uncomfortably, an almost accusing gaze flickering over to Gaius before he looked back at his servant. Merlin knew that look. If he hadn't caught Arthur in the grip of one, he would have never had found out, for the prince clearly had no intention of revealing anything that could potentially be seen as a weakness.

"I don't see how it is any of your business, _Mer_lin," Arthur muttered, looking away again so he didn't have to meet the almost accusing look in Merlin's stare. He shifted his weight forward again, clearly intending to rise. "My father, I have to get to my father."

"He's fine, Arthur. He wants a report tomorrow morning." Once again, Gaius couldn't believe how easily he could lie to the royal; although he could tell by Merlin's glance his ward was not fooled. But Gaius knew should he repeat Uther's direct words, Arthur would have been out of the bed and through the door before Gaius had so much as blinked. The prince needed rest, not having to deal with the King. "He might have been led to believe the attack rendered you unconscious and you weren't responsible for your actions."

"_Ga_ius!" Merlin exclaimed, a broad grin on his face as he glanced at the physician, awe and respect leaking out of his eyes. He knew what the physician's lie really meant – he was covering for Arthur. Unfortunately, the prince knew it as well.

"You shouldn't have done that. If he finds out..."

"Who's going to tell him? He's already seen you apparently out cold, Sire, he has no reason to suspect otherwise. Now if you'll excuse me, I have rounds to make." So saying, Gaius picked up his basket and swept from the room, leaving a gobsmacked Arthur and a grinning Merlin in his wake. A stunned silence overtook the room as he left, but after a few moments, Arthur finally found his voice again.

"And where, precisely, were you this morning, Merlin?" His servant knew that tone, it meant it was time to confess to precisely what had happened. Arthur needed to know, especially as this situation was clearly much bigger than Merlin had originally believed. There was more to this than three disgraced servants wanting a bit of revenge.

"Kind of a long story?" He offered sheepishly, shooting Arthur an uncertain grin. The prince merely settled back into the pillows and fixed his servant with a commanding look.

"Well? I'm not going anywhere." Nodding his understanding, Merlin began talking.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you so much again for the lovely reviews and support, it really means a lot!**

"How _dare_ they!"

Merlin merely rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his master's sword. Three days later and Arthur was still ranting about the fact the three servants he had dismissed had dared to attack his own manservant. Merlin wasn't even sure whether it was because they had attacked _him_, or whether because they had gone after him clearly as a way to get to the prince that had Arthur so worked up. All he knew was that there wasn't going to be a floor left if Arthur carried on pacing the way he was.

"Yes, Sire, so you've said. Now can you please sit down?" The exasperation was more than apparent in Merlin's voice, and finally taking note of it, Arthur threw himself into his chair. If Merlin didn't know better, he would have said the prince was pouting. Not that he could blame him, it had been a strange few days. Arthur had dragged him along to the meeting with his father, although Merlin still hadn't worked out why. If anything, he was sure that would have simply made Uther remember whose fault it had supposedly been that Arthur had disobeyed him. Strangely though, it had gone without a hitch, apart from the King ordering Arthur out after the sorcerer as soon as he could.

Merlin had never been as thankful for Gaius as he had in that moment. His magic still had random moments of bursting out of him, although luckily he now pretty much had it under control. It was only if something startled him did he lose his grip on it. But the physician had stepped in and all but forbidden Arthur to go anywhere for a few days, claiming he wanted to make sure there was no long term effects of the attack. Uther may have accepted it, but Arthur had glared impressively, knowing the attack had barely done anything to him. What he didn't know, however, was Gaius was trying to protect his ward. There was no way Merlin was going to allow Arthur to ride off after everything without his servant at his side, and until the warlock was satisfied that his powers were once again firmly under his control, the physician wasn't letting them go anywhere.

"I should have them flogged for this!" Arthur's angry voice brought Merlin back into the present as his hand continued to slide with practised ease over the gleaming weapon. This time, he made no attempt to hide is smirk.

"You've said that as well."

"Shut up, _Mer_lin."

"Sure you've said that too." Finally, Arthur stopped ranting about the three servants in order to glare at his own. For a moment, Merlin just held his gaze steadily, eyebrows raised slightly in an almost dare for Arthur to carry on moaning. Arthur returned the look, before finally exhaling sharply and sagging back in the chair.

"Go and muck out the stables, Merlin."

"Do I have to?" The servant moaned a little pathetically even as he climbed to his feet, shaking his legs to get the blood flowing again before replacing Arthur's sword on the table. It wasn't the job he was protesting about – even if he didn't want to do it – it was more letting Arthur out of his sight. He had a strong feeling that the prince would try and ride after Greg as soon as his servant was around to stop him. Gaius had agreed, making Merlin promise to keep a closer watch on his master. So far, Merlin had managed it, inventing chores in order to stay hanging around. If Arthur had noticed, he didn't comment on it.

"Yes. Go."

"Fine, fine," Merlin muttered, striding towards the door. Just before he left however, he turned and fixed Arthur with a somewhat stern look. For a moment, he didn't say anything, wondering how he was supposed to ask the prince to not do anything stupid whilst he was gone. In the end, he just shook his head in fond bemusement.

"Try and come up with some new threats whilst I'm gone?" He said cheekily, grinning as Arthur glanced about for something to throw at him and ducked out of the door. He chuckled as something crashed into the other side even as the doors swung shut again. Being told that he couldn't do something had certainly not gone down well with the prince. Despite normally moaning about Arthur acting as a spoilt child, Merlin had to agree with him on this one. He too wanted to seek out Greg, wanted a way of trying to help the man even despite what the fallen servant had tried to do to the pair. But he had listened – and for once, accepted – Gaius' arguments about how dangerous it was to be out there with out of control magic. Even so, Merlin knew it would only be another day or so before his magic had completely destroyed any traces of whatever dark spell had been cast; it was continuously fighting against the invading magic.

Smiling at the idea they would soon be able to get out of the castle, Merlin had a slight spring in his step as he strode down the corridor. A confined and bored prince did not offer good company, and Merlin had been beginning to regret trying to stay around him as much as possible. Merlin breathed in sharply as he left the castle, slowing down as he walked towards the stables, relishing in being able to get outside for a while.

His mind was more than preoccupied as he thought about the latest attack on Arthur's life that he didn't notice a shadow slipping out of the castle behind him, stalking his every step as Merlin drew closer and closer to the stables. The shadow quickened, gaining on the boy as Merlin reached out a hand to push open the main door.

Merlin let out a cry of surprise as his collar was grabbed, dragging him forcibly behind the stables before a hand held him against the wall. Immediately, his magic sprang into life, reacting to the attack, but with a great deal of effort, the warlock forced it back, trying to make sure it didn't lash out unexpectedly. If it was the servants again, he wouldn't hesitate, knowing it would most likely mean they were after the prince once more. But he had to make sure, he couldn't just lash out. Not only because it could have him executed, but because Merlin simply refused. If he let his magic attack every time someone carried out an action that could do him harm, he would have wiped out half of Camelot by now. Arthur alone would have been fried many times over. No, Merlin was adamant he was staying in complete control.

He was glad he did. For who else would have been pinning him to the wall other than Lord Sebastian?

"Sire?" Merlin practically squeaked. Half of it was an act, he didn't want the man to realise the skinny servant could blast him to the other side of the courtyard with just a thought, he wasn't sure that would go down too well with the King. But part of it was genuine surprise. Even throughout the meeting with Uther, Sebastian's eyes had barely left the servant, almost as if he was trying to read Merlin's very soul. To say it had made the boy uncomfortable was a severe understatement.

"Why you?" Sebastian asked quietly, his impenetrable gaze boring into Merlin again, searching for something. But Merlin could offer him no answers – for he didn't have the faintest idea what the man was talking about.

"My Lord?"

"Why were you left conscious?" The man continued, muttering quietly. His voice was so soft and low, Merlin wasn't sure whether he was talking to himself or the servant he was continuing to pin against the wall. Either way, Merlin didn't like it and shifted awkwardly.

"Let me go." His voice was equally as quiet. He knew without having to think Sebastian could make his life hell should he so desire, at least until the end of his visit. But Merlin didn't allow Arthur to degrade him, he certainly wasn't about to allow some young lord do the same. Maybe it was partly to do with knowing what Sebastian was hiding? If it came to it, Merlin knew he had some leverage on the man, much as it sickened him that he was even thinking that way.

"Who _are_ you?" Now Merlin couldn't deny it, he was getting worried. Why on earth was a visiting noble so interested in him?

"I'm Prince's Arthur's manservant, mi'lord," Merlin muttered, squirming again whilst trying to make himself seem as insignificant as possible. There was something exceedingly unnerving about this type of attention.

"No, there is more than that." Although his words made a stab of worry shoot through Merlin, he couldn't help but sigh in relief as Sebastian relinquished his hold, backing off a few paces although he continued to scrutinise Merlin closely. "There's something about you..."

"My master says it's an ability to mess things up so spectacularly." Merlin was desperately attempting to regain control of the conversation again. He could feel his magic building, clearly seeing as Sebastian as some sort of threat. Whilst normally, he was glad for the comforting feeling it offered him, right now it was dangerous. It could sense him as more of a threat than the young lord was offering because of the man's power, and the last thing Merlin wanted was for it to lash out again. Not now he had just regained control.

"Silence," Sebastian spat, and Merlin found his heart beating hard in anger. The man thought he could attack him, ask him random questions that left even more confused, and then treat him like that? Merlin drew himself up right, pushing himself away from the wall as he glared at Lord Sebastian.

"I must attend to my duties." He said icily in a way he knew would make Arthur proud. So saying, Merlin turned to walk away, shielding the raging emotions he knew would be more than evident on his face. What in the world had possessed him to say something like that to a lord? He was going to be in trouble now, he knew it. Maybe if he just got back to Arthur, tried to explain..? But explain what? Sebastian hadn't done anything, and despite knowing Arthur believed his word far more than their positions should allow, Merlin couldn't exactly accuse the man of simply being creepy. Even he had to admit that sounded ridiculous.

He thought he had made it back around to the stables, and that somehow this whole thing would have been put behind him. Merlin should have known his luck was never that good. Instead, a hand gripped his arm, wrenching it behind his back and Merlin found himself once more slammed into the wall, his cheek pressing hard against it as another hand pushed down on the base of his neck.

"I don't know who you think you are, servant," a voice growled menacingly in his ear. "But I know you are working with the three exiled servants. I saw you here, remember? And I know it was no coincidence that you turned up late for the hunt; or the fact you were one of the two left conscious throughout the ordeal."

Merlin tried to speak, but found that he was cut off with a gasp as Sebastian twisted his arm further, causing his words to slip into a sharp intake of breath instead.

"But know this. You are messing with the wrong people, and you will _not_ hurt him." Just as suddenly as Sebastian had sprung on Merlin, he melted away again. Merlin didn't even feel him move until suddenly the pressure against his neck disappeared and his arm dropped back down to his side. Immediately, Merlin spun on the spot, his magic dancing under his skin, but Sebastian had disappeared. Blowing out a shaky breath, Merlin leant against the wall.

_What __had __that __been?_

The warlock's mind was racing. Sebastian was aware that Yaren, Tomas and Harold were up to something, even though he had only been in Camelot for a few days? It was true; he had seen them all around the back of the stables on the day before the hunt. Merlin had just assumed that he had been going to join them. A sudden thought hit the servant, making him laugh at the sheer absurdity of it. Sebastian had magic. Every single person Merlin had met – apart from himself – with magic had tried to kill Arthur. Had he, was it the slightest bit possible...had he actually found someone who wanted to protect the royal prat?

His mind whirling around in circles as he shakily dragged a hand through his hair in contemplation. Could Sebastian have been watching him because he truly thought the servant had wanted to hurt the prince? Merlin snorted slightly in dry amusement. That was certainly something new.

Knowing that he still had to muck out the stables, Merlin meandered in, nodding distractedly to George. All credit to the man, he barely blinked as Merlin absently began mucking out Arthur's horse, not saying a word about how the boy's mind seemed to be far away. It wouldn't be the first time Merlin had been lost in thought whilst taking refuge from his master. Despite the physical labour of the job, Merlin found it gave him the time to think. Everyone kept themselves to themselves down here, and with no Arthur throwing goblets at his head every time he even tried to contemplate thinking about something, the warlock found he really didn't mind the work, despite his complaints about it. Arthur thought he was giving his servant something unpleasant to do when he ordered the boy down to the stables, it would do no good for him to find out that was far from the case.

How long Merlin contemplated Sebastian's strange behaviour for, he had no idea. He was aching pleasantly when the sound of frantic footsteps hurrying into the stables, a familiar voice speaking rapidly to George. Throwing down his fork, he leant against the stable door.

"Gwen?"

"Merlin, oh Merlin, thank goodness." The maid's voice floated ahead of its owner, but Merlin only had time to let himself out of the stall, making sure to close the door carefully behind him again, before she hurried around the corner, wringing her hands slightly and looking positively relieved to see him.

"Gwen, what is it, what's happened?" Whether it was his magic giving a warning throb in the pit of his stomach, or whether it was just because he knew the maid well enough to know something was troubling her, Merlin wasn't sure. All he knew is that he went from standing by the stall to grasping her by the shoulders, eyes roaming her face for answers he wasn't sure he wanted.

"Merlin, its Arthur..." Merlin sighed heavily, cutting her off mid-flow as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

"What's he done this time?" The servant muttered in a resigned voice. He knew he shouldn't have left the proud royal, not considering the mood Arthur had been in for the last few days.

"I'm not sure," Gwen admitted, her teeth teasing her bottom lip as she stared at her friend in anxiety. "Morgana sent me to find you. She tried to go and talk to him, but no one can get into his chambers, the door is locked."

Merlin frowned. He had a feeling the King's ward would have approached the prince at some point, no doubt after a true account of the events. Whilst Merlin knew her discovery of her powers had hardened her against Uther even more so than before, he was just grateful that she still was that pillar of support – and mockery – Arthur so desperately needed. Even he wouldn't have the guts to shut her out of his room, not if he didn't want his life to become a living hell. Gwen was right, something was wrong here.

"I'm on my way!" His words were left bouncing around the stables long after the lanky youth sprinted from them, heading back towards the castle as fast as he could manage. Gwen smiled in relief as Merlin shot off. If there was anyone who would be able to force their way into the barred room, it would be him. Merlin had this way of getting what he wanted when it came to Arthur. Through all her years watching the prince from Morgana's side, it amazed her that all it took was a servant with the courage to backchat the prince, and his defences came crumbling down.

She followed Merlin out of the stables, setting off towards the castle herself. After all, she still had her mistress to find. No doubt the Lady Morgana was causing absolute havoc amongst the guards in order to find out why no one could gain access to Arthur's chambers. Neither her nor the rapidly disappearing Merlin caught sight of the figure lurking around the stables, watching and listening to events unfolding. As Gwen disappeared, Lord Sebastian stepped from the shadows, a frown on his face. Things were certainly not what they seemed here in Camelot.

MMMM

Arthur snorted slightly as his goblet clattered off the back of the door as Merlin all but fled, stabbing moodily at the plate of food in front of him with the tip of his dagger. He wanted to be out in the forest, hunting down Greg and demanding answers for what had happened. Instead, he had found himself stuck here, barely able to get rid of Merlin's presence until he did something like sending him to muck out the stables. It wasn't that he minded having the boy around, he enjoyed the company, although he knew for sure he would never admit it out loud. But he wanted time to think, time to get his head around the fact that, once again, he had disobeyed the King without a second's hesitation for Merlin.

Pulling himself to his feet with a long suffering sigh, Arthur decided to go and see if Gaius was in his chambers. He wanted answers as to why the physician was continuing with the story of the attack, why he wasn't letting the prince bring justice to someone who had hurt the man's ward. He had attempted to more than once, but Merlin had come out with some extravagant excuse about why Gaius wasn't in his chambers and dragged the blond off in the opposite direction. But now Merlin wasn't here, Arthur knew this could be his one chance. He was sure there was something much bigger going on, but for the life of him, he couldn't work out what.

He had just reached the doors when they suddenly burst open with a bang, making Arthur stumble back a step in surprise. As the table collided with the back of his knees, the prince let his hand reach out behind him, fingers scrabbling for his sword instinctively. The doors only remained open for long enough that Arthur could see the normal guards posted there both out cold on the floor and for three figures to dart in. One slammed the doors shut behind him, and Arthur watched with narrowed eyes as Harold locked them.

"What do you think you are doing?" He asked, his voice slow and dangerous. "How dare you return to the castle? Mark my words, you will be punished for this." In some weird way, Arthur was glad it was the three of them who had burst in. They had attacked Merlin, and now they were doing the same to him, Arthur could justify teaching them what happened when you messed with something that belonged to the Crown Prince.

"Don't think your threats can scare us, Prince Arthur," Yaren responded quietly, stalking towards the prince. Tomas came in from the opposite angle, and Harold simply took a step forward. They were hemming Arthur in, and with the table against his back, he had nowhere to go. Not that that bothered the prince. They were disgraced servants; he was Camelot's finest warrior. What did he have to be worried about? "We have a much greater master than you."

"What are you talking about?" Arthur was stalling now, slowly tugging his sword across the table as he braced himself.

"You'll find out soon enough." Yaren nodded at Tomas, and the pair of them sprang towards Arthur, blades suddenly in their hands. In one swift movement, Arthur pulled his sword free of the clutter from the table, knocked Tomas's knife away and sent the man stumbling back a pace. Yaren regarded him carefully, but then he too made the mistake of simply rushing at the prince. Within seconds, he was flat out on the floor with Arthur's sword at his throat.

"Sure about that?" Arthur said, a smirk on his face even as Tomas jumped on the prince's back. Growling in frustration that he had to lose his advantage over Yaren – the man he was sure was leading the three of them - Arthur slammed himself back into the wall, causing Tomas to slip off with a gasp. A swift blow later and Arthur knew it would be several hours before he had to worry about that man again.

He moved carefully back into the centre of the room. Yaren was back on his feet, both his and Tomas's blades in his hand as he watched Arthur through narrowed eyes. What concerned the prince more, however, was Harold. He hadn't even tried to join in the fight, and the man's sheer bulk meant Arthur knew he was the one who could potentially pose as the biggest threat. Instead, he seemed to be almost cowered in the corner, mumbling under his breath as his hands swirled strangely in front of him. Arthur watched him closely for a moment, trying to figure out what he was doing, but Yaren didn't let his attention stray for long as he charged again.

This time, thanks to not having his mind on the fight, Arthur found he was driven back slightly. His sword moved as if it was nothing more than an extension of his arm, blocking every blow Yaren attempted. It was too easy. A sudden hammering on the door made all three men pause.

"Arthur? What do you think you are doing, locking the doors like this? Arthur Pendragon, open these doors immediately before I go to the King." Arthur smirked as he shook his head fondly. Morgana. He might have known. Before he could open his mouth to respond, Yaren drove forward once again.

Beginning to grow slightly bored of servants thinking they could threaten him, Arthur tuned out the furious hammering on the door and the fact that Harold's chanting seemed to have gotten louder, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Instead, he goaded Yaren further forward, before his sword slashed out in one quick movement. Before the man knew what had hit him, Yaren found the ties from Arthur's bed lashed firmly around his wrists, binding him. Hitting out at the blades again, Arthur swiftly disarmed the man, levelling his sword at Yaren's throat.

"Yield and I'll show you the mercy you didn't show Merlin." For a moment, Yaren froze, before his gaze slipped past Arthur. To the prince's concern, he smirked, one full of confidence. It was only then that Arthur noticed Harold had stopped chanting, and there was an unusual hush in the room. All it took was one movement of his fist and Yaren was out cold even as Arthur turned back to face the rest of the room.

"Greg." He breathed, a strange trickle of fear running down his spine at the figure who had mysteriously appeared in the middle of his room.

"Sire." Greg still sounded respectfully, even as his hand rose towards Harold. "Well done, Harold, you have done your part well."

"My Lord." Harold was smiling now, and it was only then Arthur realised what the man had been doing. Summoning Greg. He didn't have time to question it before Greg's hand snapped into a fist and a loud crack filled the air as Harold slumped forward, surprise etched into his face. Arthur felt slightly sick. The man's neck was broken.

"What do you want, Greg? What's happened to you?" Despite himself, Arthur was remarkably pleased with how steady his voice was. Morgana had stopped hammering on his door, and Arthur was certain she would be carrying out her usual threats of getting the guards to break it down. Help would be arriving soon; all Arthur had to do was hold of an angry sorcerer until that time came.

"Merlin." Greg responded simply, and Arthur found he blinked in surprise. "I want revenge on Merlin. He destroyed _everything_, and I cannot let that go."

Out of all the attempts on his life before, Arthur had never heard that excuse. The King, Camelot, his own life - they were the normal things that came flooding from a sorcerer's mouth as the prepared to take the prince's life. Never had he been threatened because someone wanted revenge on his servant, and Arthur found the whole concept slightly surreal.

"You won't be able to touch him." Arthur responded warningly, his hand tightening once again on his sword as he shifted himself into a more defensive stance. "You should leave whilst you still have your life, for you won't be walking out of this room alive."

"Who said anything about walking out of the room?" Greg's tone was light and almost friendly, and more than anything, Arthur found that disturbed him. Why wasn't the man looking more worried about the fact that Arthur had his sword levelled at his throat with precision? Most other people were when facing a prince with a face like thunder.

"Whatever you are planning, Greg, you won't get away with it. Leave and stay alive."

"Are you getting soft there, Prince Arthur?"

"No," Arthur spat. "That was me just trying to be reasonable." Having had enough, Arthur lunged forward. If he had been facing against any other opponent, he would have killed them there and then. But Greg somehow seemed to almost melt away from the blade, appearing a couple of paces further back than where he had been and a slightly put out expression on his face.

"Arthur, Arthur, Arthur..."

"You hurt Merlin." The prince cut in fiercely. No one went after his friends and got away with it. A strange expression of understanding and acceptance seemed to flicker over Greg's face and he nodded almost submissively. Arthur stepped forward again, one hand reaching out and grasping the man's shoulder as the tip of his blade rested against the base of Greg's throat. He swallowed hard, readying himself to bring an end to the man who had not only hurt his servant, but had attacked the king as well.

Unfortunately, he hesitated for a moment too long. Greg's eyes snapped up, and Arthur felt as if the breath was stolen from him as they flashed pure black. But the shock went further than that, and the prince stumbled backwards, his sword falling from his hand as he dropped to his knees, hands clawing at his throat. Dark spots littered across his vision as Arthur finally comprehended that maybe attacking a sorcerer on his own wasn't such a good idea.

Gasping for breath, he could do nothing as Greg stepped forward, placing a hand on his forehead and immobilising the prince.

"Arthur!" With a tremendous bang, the doors suddenly crashed open and Merlin all but fell over his own feet as he burst in, eyes going wide when he caught sight of the position his master was in.

"You have three days, Merlin." Greg said smoothly, locking eyes with the frozen servant. Before Merlin could react – not that Arthur had expected him to be able to do anything, he would have been yelling at the idiot to run if his voice had been working – darkness overwhelmed the prince.

He didn't know how long he was out for, but knew it must have been a while if the way the muscles in his shoulders were screaming at him was anything to go by. His senses were on full alert the moment he regained consciousness, and with a grimace, Arthur planted his feet on the floor, drawing himself upright and relieving the pressure on his arms, looking around him as he did so.

He was in a small and dark cell, hands suspended above him in thick manacles. His now exposed torso was pressed against the damp stone and his bare feet were cold on the rough floor. Experimenting, he tugged at the chains, but apart from sending around a rattle that echoed mysteriously off the walls, all he managed to do was make them cut deeper into his wrists.

"Welcome back to the land of the living." A voice drawled from somewhere on his right. A flame flickered into life to reveal Greg sprawled in a corner, smugness radiating from the man.

"What have you done?" Arthur growled, pulling once again on his bonds. He was genuinely confused. If Greg was so determined to seek revenge on Merlin, why on earth had he spirited the prince off to somewhere? For Arthur was sure that he was no longer in Camelot. But when Greg answered, Arthur wished he had never asked.

"Finding out if I really do have the perfect bait. I hope for your sake I do."

"Merlin won't come. He won't even know where we are, the idiot."

"Then maybe I should send him an invitation?" Greg mused thoughtfully, standing up and coming to a stop in front of the struggling prince. For a moment, he watched Arthur carefully before his eyes turned black again and the chains holding the royal burned with a fierce intensity, causing Arthur to hide a wince as they were reinforced.

"What are you planning?" He asked quietly, his tone soft and even.

"Oh Prince Arthur, you don't want to know."


	6. Chapter 6

**Oh my goodness, this story is taking on a life of its own - this is version I don't know what, it kept changing direction! Thank you so much for the reviews/alerts etc, they really mean a lot.**

"Gaius, please, you must understand. I have to go after him."

"Merlin, no." Gaius was perched on the edge of Merlin's small bed, watching in exasperation as the young man ran around the room, trying to find the belongings he thought he might need to find the missing prince. It ranged from everything to clean shirts to his spell book. Items were unceremoniously stuffed into the warlock's small bag before being pulled out again, something else taking its place. The physician hadn't seen Merlin this worked up for a long time. "At least let me tell the King, he can send the Knights out."

"And how are you going to explain that Arthur was taken as bait for me, that Greg wants me because I'm a powerful sorcerer?" Gaius had no answer. Merlin had a point, much as he didn't want to admit it. How on earth would they be able to explain it away? The old man was sure he could come up with something, this was not the first time he had to explain away the use of magic.

"What about the other three?"

"Leon has them in the dungeons." Merlin muttered, finally pausing for long enough to run a hand through his hair as he thought back on what had happened. No sooner had Greg disappeared, taking Arthur with him, the prince's right hand man had coming running in, sword drawn. His eyes had fallen on the three servants, all in various stages of restraint and consciousness from where the prince had beaten them. For a moment, he had smirked slightly, the fond shaking of his head showing that he knew precisely who had put them in those positions. But then he had noticed what – or rather _who__-_ was missing.

Merlin was kneeling on the floor, right on the spot where Greg had disappeared. He could feel the magic strongest at that spot, and although it was making his own tingle unpleasantly, he knew that if he was to have any clue where Arthur had been taken, it would have been from there. After demanding what had happened and pretty much getting the truth (apart from the part about Greg really being after the servant rather than the prince), Leon had called for the guards to take the others away. On his return, he had found Merlin still in Arthur's chambers, staring into the fireplace with a vacant expression. The only answer he could get out of the boy was that he hadn't swept it like Arthur had demanded, and that was when the Knight had managed to drag Merlin back to Gaius.

Somehow, although Merlin had no idea how, the physician had managed to persuade the Knight from holding off telling the King about Arthur's disappearance. Leon knew better than most how much Arthur craved Uther's approval, and informing him that his heir and future King of Camelot had been abducted by a servant was not going to help matters. Out of respect for Arthur, Leon had eventually agreed. He swore that he would give it two days, before he would go to the King. No doubt the King would pretend to deliberate for a while, and by dawn on the third day, the Knights would be riding out after their missing prince.

Merlin was just thankful it was Leon that had found them and so agreed to Gaius' terms. By the time his senses had returned to him, he knew that they would hopefully be back by then. Greg had only given him three days. Merlin had to find Arthur before the Knights rode out, or he knew that no one would ever find the prince again. Apart from Gaius fussing about his momentarily lapse into shock over the turn of events – first Sebastian, then Greg – Merlin had insisted on packing straight away. And so the argument had begun, and nearly an hour later, they were still going around in circles.

Stuffing the final thing he thought he would need into the bag, Merlin dumped it by the door and turned to face Gaius, an almost pleading expression on his face. He didn't want to run out of here at odds with his guardian. Greg certainly wouldn't just want him for a friendly catch up, and if there was the smallest chance that he might not be making it back, then Merlin needed Gaius to know, to understand why he had to do this. No sooner had he opened his mouth when Gaius smiled sadly, looking defeated.

"Destiny is a tricky thing, isn't it?" Merlin smirked humourlessly, moving across the room to perch on the edge of the bed next to the man.

"More like an arrogant prat. But...he's my friend, Gaius. Destiny be damned, I can't let Greg use him as bait against me, it's not fair. Especially because Arthur won't even know why."

"You can't tell him, Merlin. Arthur cannot find out about you."

"When does he ever?" Trying to brush off the comment flippantly, Merlin made to stand back up, knowing that every moment spent here was a moment closer to his deadline of finding the prince. But for an old man, Gaius had a firm grip, and tugging on Merlin's wrist, he got the warlock to sit still for a moment longer.

"I mean it, Merlin. If Greg knows that you are Emrys, if his master knows who you are, I fear nothing good can come of it. You cannot protect your destiny if you are dead."

"Gaius, you know I'm grateful for everything you have ever taught me. But if there is any chance of saving Arthur, you know I have to take it, no matter what the cost. I must go." This time, Gaius didn't stop him as the servant climbed to his feet. Merlin picked up his bag, walked down the stairs and got all the way to the main door before a voice called him back once more. Sighing in resignation, he was prepared to once again reinforce what he had been trying to tell the physician for what felt like hours, but found that he didn't need to.

"Good luck."

"I'll be back soon." Merlin promised with an easy grin, the worry and concern shining brightly out of his eyes and betraying what they both knew could potentially be a lie. There was no telling what he was about to walk in to, especially considering he didn't even know if Greg's master was human. Whatever it was it had great power, for how else would it know who he truly was?

It wasn't until Merlin was out of the door and halfway down the corridor that Gaius' response was whispered.

"Be safe."

Unaware of quite how much turmoil he was putting his mentor in, Merlin hastily made his way to towards the stables. He was going as quickly as he could, whilst trying not to make it look like he was running. Gaius was the only one that knew he was going after Arthur, even Leon believed that Merlin too would wait for the few days to see if Arthur managed to free himself. Merlin knew better. The prince was no doubt Camelot's best warrior, but with magic at his disposal, Greg had already made it clear that Arthur wouldn't stand a chance if he fought back. If he was honest, Merlin wasn't sure how much of a chance _he_ stood. Gaius and the Dragon were constantly telling him that he was the most powerful warlock to have ever lived. So why was it, during the attack in the forest, Greg had rendered him useless? He wanted to say it was because he had been taken by surprise, but in all honesty, Merlin knew there was more to it than that.

His hands moved automatically as he began to saddle up the mare he nearly always rode. She was a calm thing, but often sensed Merlin's urgency to move and reacted accordingly. George just left him to it, saying not another word after his greeting was all but ignored. How many times had he watched the young servant rush into the stables, often muttering some nonsense under his breath before riding out like the devil himself was on his heels? If he was honest, the stable master just put up with it now.

But it did mean that Merlin remained oblivious to what was going on around him. His mind raced as his hands flew, thinking over everything he knew about Greg to try and work out what direction he should head in once he left Camelot's gates. He just hoped that considering Greg almost seemed to _want_ Merlin to come, he would make it easy for him. What was the point of giving him an impossible challenge? If something else was behind this plan, then no doubt Greg would not want to fail simply by not giving Merlin a way to find them. He had just finished fastening the last strap when a heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder, spinning him around.

Letting out a slight yelp in surprise, Merlin found that it deepened to a low growl of annoyance at seeing Sebastian standing over him, a scowl of annoyance on the noble's face that matched Merlin's perfectly.

"Running back to your master?" The man spat, and for a moment, Merlin frowned. Technically, that was precisely what he was trying to do, but something told him that Arthur was not who Sebastian was meaning.

"What?" Although he knew it was a blunt response, especially for someone of supposedly much higher status than him, Merlin didn't care. He didn't have time for Sebastian's games, not when it was Arthur's life on the line.

"I saw those three taken to the dungeons. I went to see Arthur," Sebastian broke off, moving his hand so it was gripping the collar of Merlin's shirt and twisting his fist. Instinctively, Merlin's own hand rose, trying to prise the man's fingers away. "Imagine my _surprise_ when I find that he is nowhere to be seen. And then what do I see, his little treacherous servant running for the stables."

Merlin had had enough. It was one thing being overlooked for all the times he had either saved Arthur's life and no one noticed, or done something to help the prince that Arthur then took credit for. That was fine by him, it kept them both safe. But to have someone accuse him of wanting to harm the man after everything Merlin had been through for him, it was too much. He dropped his hand from Sebastian's clenched ones and pushed at the man's chest.

"Leave me alone. I've done nothing to hurt Arthur, _ever._ You want to know where he is, trying asking the three that are locked up rather than the one who is trying to find him." Knowing he was most likely in for it anyway, Merlin tore out of Sebastian's grip and tried to mount his horse. He had to get out there after Arthur, he couldn't let Greg hurt the prat whilst Merlin delayed. He had only just got one foot in the stirrup when he was grabbed from behind and dragged to the floor.

Sebastian once again twisted Merlin's arm up behind him, using his free hand to hold down on the boy's neck, keeping him flat on the floor and ignoring the way Merlin was trying to buck him off.

"Guards!" He lowered his head so that he could whisper in Merlin's ear, even as the guards came running for the stables. "I don't know what your game is, but I'm going to find out."

There was something so threatening in his voice that Merlin felt a shiver go down his spine even as he doubled his efforts to make the man let go.

"Get off me!" Knowing that Sebastian had magic, Merlin was preparing to lash out with his own. He simply had to get after Arthur, and he very much doubted Sebastian would want Uther looking into accusation of sorcery too deeply considering his own secret. But before he could do so, he felt his arms gripped as he was hauled to his feet again. Merlin let the magic die back again. He couldn't attack the guards, there were too many. He might be powerful, but Merlin had no desire to hurt someone who was just doing his job. And he couldn't very well go and save Arthur if Uther had him executed, he didn't think Greg would take too kindly to that.

"That boy tried to strike me. I want him confined in the dungeons immediately. He is to see no one until I have dealt with him."

"Yes M'Lord." One of the guards muttered, and Merlin could only stare in dismay as he was dragged away. His bag was still sitting in the corner of the stall – along with his spell book. He couldn't draw attention to it, but knew that he simply couldn't let himself stay in the dungeons. He would wait until nightfall, and then get out. He couldn't risk what Greg could potentially do to Arthur.

MMMM

Arthur was pacing furiously. The last thing he could remember was Merlin's frantic expression before everything went black. He had awoken to find himself locked in a small cell, only a high barred window and a heavy door. But within an hour, he had escaped.

But he had underestimated Greg. No longer was this a casual servant who picked on those he considered to be below him, this was someone who had been consumed by dark magic. Arthur had made it as far as the edge of the forest once he had got out of what appeared to be an old castle, believing that that was it and he would be home soon. But then pain like none he had any words for had erupted in his head. It was the same sensation that Greg had attacked them with on the hunting trip, but only ten times worse. Arthur had been driven to his knees, stars dancing across his vision. By the time he had regained his senses, he was back in the cell. Only this time, there were thick manacles around his wrists. To the prince's concern, he could make out no locks; no join in the metal in the slightest.

He knew then that he was messing with powerful magic. How else would Greg be able to restrain him like that? All Arthur was aware of was that he wasn't going to simply be able to escape like that again. He couldn't even reach the door, the chain binding him to the wall was shorter than even the cell and considering there were no weaknesses to be found in the links, Arthur didn't know how he was going to get out of this one.

Eventually, the prince grew frustrated of his pacing. He could only make it six steps before having to turn, and after a few hours, the novelty of stretching his legs had worn off. Sighing heavily, the young royal let his back rest against the wall, sinking down it until his knees were tucked under his chin. He rested his arms across his knees and then leant his head back, sighing again. What did Greg want with him? Even during his escape, he hadn't once seen the crazed man, just felt his magic. If, of course, that was Greg and not someone else.

Something told Arthur they were alone here though. He couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, but when he had attempted to run, he had seen no sign of anyone else, nor any evidence that anyone had been here recently. Surely if there were people around, someone would have been left to guard the prince? Why would Greg risk so much coming to Camelot and then simply leave Arthur alone?

What was unnerving the prince more than anything was the last words he heard Greg utter. He had given Merlin three days to find them. Why on earth would he want Merlin? But deep down, Arthur knew. It was Merlin who was responsible for Greg being banished from Camelot, Merlin who had alerted the one person Greg idolised to precisely what he was up to. Much as he would never admit it to anyone, least of all Merlin, Arthur knew this had nothing to do with him. It was Merlin Greg was after, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, Arthur knew it was Merlin Greg would get. His manservant was loyal to the point of stupidity, he would no doubt already be on his way to trying to find his missing master.

Whilst he was touched (again, something Arthur would never admit to), the prince knew it was pointless. He didn't even know where they were, and he knew every inch of his kingdom. Whilst he refused to dwell on the worrying point that they might be somewhere else entirely, Arthur just couldn't fathom out how Merlin was supposed to know where Greg had whisked Arthur away too. The chances are the fool would be eaten by a bear or something along the way. Tipping his head forward again, Arthur let it rest on his knees, hugging his legs closer to his chest to try and conserve some warmth. He certainly couldn't deny the chill that had penetrated both the cell and himself. For a brief moment, Arthur found himself wishing that Merlin would just hurry up, he could really do with a nice hot bath.

But then Arthur shook himself, forcing his mind back into reality. There would be nothing Merlin could do even if by some miracle he did stumble across where Greg was holding the prince. Hell, if Arthur couldn't escape from the fallen servant, then what chance did his clumsy loyal servant have? He would walk straight into the trap. Arthur wasn't a fool. If Merlin walked into the trap, neither of them would be walking out of it again.

Tugging furiously at the chain holding him, Arthur grunted with the effort, determined to at least feel something give. He had to get out of here. Not only for himself – although he had no desire to sit around and wait for Greg to decide what to do with him once he realised that Merlin wasn't coming. No, this time it was for Merlin. The servant had saved his life before, and Arthur had a feeling he had done more for the prince than even Arthur knew. But what he did know was that the lanky youth was the first true friend Arthur had, and he would be damned before he was used as bait for him.

His aims to escape might have been very noble, but the reality was slightly less rose-tinted. After half an hour of pulling, all Arthur had succeeded in doing was making his wrists bleed slightly. He had found no way out of the magical chains in the slightest, no way of even getting himself closer to the door.

"You can't do this!" Arthur yelled, moving as far out as the chain would let him and staring around the room. "You certainly won't get away with it! Stop hiding behind magic, you coward! Come and face me!" His yells echoed away to nothing until all Arthur could hear was his own ragged breathing as he waited to see if he would get a response. He certainly wasn't expecting a small plate of food with a pitcher to appear at his feet.

A small slate on the door opened. "My apologies, Sire. I cannot come and "face you" as you put it, for even restrained you would overwhelm me. But please, eat, you should at least keep up your strength."

"What do you think..." Before Arthur could finish what he was trying to say, the slate slammed shut again. He didn't even hear Greg's footsteps disappear. There was no way Arthur was going to eat anything provided by a sorcerer. He would rather starve to death. All that was on the plate was a piece of dry bread and what appeared to be water in the cup. Still, the prince refused to let himself touch it for a long time, instead being adamant that he was going to get out of here before he let anything Greg provided pass his lips.

It worked well in theory. By throwing the plate across the room, Arthur accidentally managed to put it out of his own reach, meaning that even if he was to give in and want the food, he now could not. The prince was pleased. He would be defiant to the end, of that he was sure. But as the chill became more prominent, Arthur found himself coughing. The tickle was annoying and irritating, and for the life of him, Arthur could not get it to fade. Eventually, his eyes fell back on the pitcher.

"No way." He told himself, forcing his eyes away and staring at something in the brick work, ignoring the tickle building in his throat. Involuntarily, his gaze was drawn back to it, just sitting there and mocking him. It would make all his problems go away with just one sip. Tentatively, Arthur took a step towards it. If he could keep up his strength, he would be able to get out of here when Merlin turned up. He knew that it would be up to him to get them both out if the fool did come wondering in, and he was not going to be able to do that if he was coughing every five seconds.

Finally, Arthur picked it up. He didn't know how long he had been unconscious for, either of the times Greg had taken him out. But the second the cool liquid touched his lips, Arthur found that he was gulping it, desperate for it to soothe the tickle in his throat and so allow him to think straight once again. He had to plan, he had to get out of...

"Woah..." The pitcher fell back down to the floor with a resounding thud as Arthur shakily lifted a shackled hand to his head. It was supposed to have cleared his mind, allowed him to think straight once again, not completely wipe out all thoughts altogether. Somehow, Arthur made it back to the wall, lowering himself to the floor again, just in time. No sooner had he sat down when his vision swam alarmingly.

Of course, it was only then he noticed the slight after taste to the water and realised what an idiot he had been.

"I told you last time there was no point trying to resist me, Sire. Your manservant has a destiny to fulfil and my master grows weary. He does not desire his magic to be used simply to detain you, so I do apologise, I had to resort to other methods." Although Arthur couldn't see Greg, he could certainly hear him as darkness began to claw at his vision, spots once more dancing in front of his eyes.

He slumped further, feeling all of the strength sap out of him. He had been drugged more times than he would care to remember, most of them being thanks to Gaius believing that he knew best. Thinking of Gaius made his head hurt. Hell, thinking at all made his head hurt, and Arthur could have sworn that he heard a rather cold chuckle from somewhere as the drug claimed him and he completely sagged.

Just before he went under, however, Arthur's fog-filled mind did register one thing. He wasn't sure exactly how it was going to help him, or what he was even going to do with the knowledge, but somehow, it seemed important to remember.

Greg had said his master's magic. It meant the disgraced man didn't have magic of his own.

MMMM

Not knowing it was precisely what his master had been doing, Merlin found himself pacing the cell, keeping an eye on the sky he could just about see out of the high window, waiting for nightfall. If he could get out without anyone seeing him go, he would be able to get a few hours before anyone knew he was missing.

It might have worked as well, if not one person. Merlin was sure that Sebastian was doing it deliberately, turning up every time Merlin was preparing to leave. He even had the spell on the tip of his tongue when he heard the door unlock. For a moment, the warlock just blinked stupidly, _certain_ that he hadn't yet uttered the words that would have that very same effect before his brain caught up with him and he realised that the door was being pushed open. A figure strode in, and then the door clanged shut again. Merlin couldn't help but notice that it was left unlocked though. Maybe he wouldn't need to resort to magic after all...

"What's the plan then, boy? Get your master to kidnap the prince and then go and help him finish off the job?" Merlin moaned out loud, sinking down into a crouching and wrapping his arms around his knees before resting his forehead on them, hiding his face from view.

"I'm not trying to hurt Arthur," he muttered, beginning to get sick and tired of having to explain himself to a noble that didn't believe him. Next time he saw Gaius, he was going to make sure he informed the physician that he never wanted anyone to notice him again. It made life so much easier.

"Then why were you there? Why were you late for the hunt only to turn up? Why did you go running to the prince's chambers? I _saw_ you, boy, I saw the look on your face."

"Then you would know it was wor..." Merlin sighed, looking Sebastian in the eye. When he next spoke, the annoyance was gone from his voice. Instead, it was soft, almost sounding defeated. "Then you would know it was worry. I'm not trying to hurt Arthur, I'm trying to protect him."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Merlin glared at the man standing over him. It was okay for him, he was a noble, that automatically gave him some protection, despite his own secret. But for Merlin, protecting Arthur came with the cost of lying to the man he considered his best friend, even if neither of them would admit it. It hurt.

"I don't expect you to understand." He had already crossed the line with this particular noble, Merlin wasn't holding back any longer. But even as Sebastian took a step forward, his fists clenching together, Merlin suddenly gasped.

The same type of pain that had shot through his head in the clearing had returned, his magic immediately humming into life. He couldn't use magic when he was already in Camelot's dungeons, that was just suicidal! He bit his lip, attempting to force the magic back whilst remembering how Gaius had got through to him before to help him regain control.

Although the magic faded slightly, the pain did not. Merlin may have already been crouched, but he didn't even notice when he suddenly curled up, shaking with the agony shooting through not just his head, but his entire body. It felt as if his whole body was being suffocated in something icy and there was an intense coldness in the cell.

"What are you doing?" Sebastian's shocked cry just about penetrated Merlin's mind, and he shook his head slightly, only to immediately cry out again.

"It's not...not me," he gasped, before another wave of the agony had him flipping onto his back, arching as he cried out. He could see Sebastian still standing above him, and knew in that instant that although the man could feel the coldness of the cell, Merlin was the only one feeling the crippling pains.

"_You __are __trying __my __patience, __Emrys. __Your __time __is __running __out, __as __is __his.__"_

Merlin had no idea where the voice came from. It just seemed to echo mysteriously around the cell, but thankfully, as the voice died away, so did the pain. Gasping, Merlin stayed exactly where he was for a few moments before tentatively pushing himself into an upright position. He had wondered whether Greg would keep an eye on his progress, especially considering how eager he had seemed for the warlock to find them. But that hadn't been Greg's voice, that had been something else. Something much older, much darker. Something that, quite frankly, Merlin found absolutely terrified him in a way nothing else had ever managed before.

He heard an audible swallow come from somewhere above him, and Merlin found himself groaning again. The noble already didn't believe him, what on earth was he supposed to say this time in order to convince Sebastian he wasn't on some crazy mission in order to kill the prince.

But as he looked up, Merlin found that he was the one swallowing slightly nervously. Sebastian was watching him with a strange expression, something that was a mixture of fear, awe, respect and plain confusion. The confusion was certainly echoed on Merlin's face, and for a moment, he could only blink at the man. Opening his mouth in order to ask what was wrong, Merlin found that Sebastian beat him to it.

The man's voice was hoarse, and although he would never admit to hearing it, Merlin could have sworn that it cracked. But it wasn't so much the way the normally controlled noble spoke, it was what he said that had Merlin reeling.

"You're Emrys?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you again for the amazing support. Just as a warning, the next chapter took me four attempts to write, and that is all that I have done of this story. So apologies if the updates get a little crazy, I swear this plot has a mind of its own and keeps going in different directions.**

Merlin found himself back in Gaius' chambers again. Although it did feel like he was going around in circles, something was worrying him thanks to the voice, he knew that this time it was necessary. Sebastian had almost dragged him from the dungeons just as forcibly as he had thrown him in, not saying anything until they had reached the physician. After demanding something for the pain he had witnessed Merlin go through and then all but throwing Gaius out of his own chambers, Sebastian had turned on the warlock. Forcing the tonic down his throat and a blanket around his shoulders, he had at least waited until Merlin had stopped shaking before speaking to the slightly bewildered and more than terrified boy.

"How are you Emrys?" Merlin blinked at him. How on earth was he supposed to answer that one? Luckily, Sebastian seemed to realise what a foolish question that was and shook his head, beginning to pace the length of the room. Watching him, Merlin was more than confused. How did Sebastian even know the name Emrys and what it was supposed to signify? He knew the man had magic, but that didn't mean he had heard of the legend surrounding Merlin and his destiny. Maybe he had found the Great Dragon during his time in Camelot?

"...of all the people, never would have thought, believed you would hurt him..." The noble was mumbling now, and watching him pace was beginning to hurt Merlin's head a little. If Sebastian wasn't going to address the warlock directly, then Merlin decided he had no business in sitting around here waiting. He couldn't get the words out of his head, that his time was running out. That _Arthur__'__s _time was running out. The prince couldn't die yet, not until Merlin had made him fulfil the destiny that had been haunted him since the moment he set foot in this Kingdom!

He had just made it to his feet when his movement alerted Sebastian to his presence once more.

"How powerful are you?"

"Uh..." Another impossible question. The Dragon seemed to imply that Merlin had power beyond most, but all the warlock knew was that he had been beaten more times than he would like to admit to. Yet even he was aware that there was something different about his magic, something that did set him apart from the rest. All the same, he wasn't completely sure that he wanted to tell Sebastian that, especially considering as he hadn't worked out whether the man wanted to help him find Arthur, or simply kill him on the spot. He hadn't revealed enough either way.

"If you're Emrys, you must be strong. And yet you are a servant..."

"How do you know about Emrys? Who are _you?__"_ Merlin decided that if all the questions were going to be about him, he could at least take control over the conversation. With just a flicker of his eyes, the door shut on its own accord, and Merlin heard Sebastian swallow before letting a low whistle slide through his teeth.

"Didn't even mutter a word," he whispered appreciatively, and when Merlin glanced at him again, he found the noble watching him in awe. Shifting uncomfortable, the servant wasn't sure whether he suddenly preferred the man hating him, Never before had he been in this type of situation, and if he was honest, Merlin had no idea what he was supposed to do.

"Answer the question." He muttered, shifting on his stool and studying his feet. It might have been easier if Sebastian wasn't a noble, but somehow, Merlin doubted it.

"I am Lord Sebastian Banton, heir to the lands bordering on the edge of this Kingdom." Merlin nearly rolled his eyes at the pompous voice the noble was using, But then something changed. His voice softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he clearly remembered something. "But the Druids call me Seb."

"You know the Druids?"

"How do you think I knew about you? Do you really think that my father would have taught me the legends of the great Emrys? With his attitude towards magic? Yes, I know the Druids." Sebastian finally stopped pacing and sat down on a stool across from Merlin. "They raised me for four years."

"What?"

"My father's hunting party was attacked by bandits, and I was taken hostage. I used magic for the first time that night, even if I didn't know what it was that I had done. I escaped, but had no idea where I was. I was only ten." As Sebastian paused, Merlin found himself listening intently, despite himself. He had never met anyone like the young noble in front of him, someone that was proof Merlin wasn't the only one out there not corrupted by the power running in his veins. He had to admit, he had been getting concerned that was not to be the case.

"How did that make you find the Druids?"

"Quiet and I'll tell you," Sebastian snapped, before sighing and rubbing a hand over his face. He was as used to acting the noble as Merlin was acting the servant, and knowing that the lanky youth sitting opposite him had more magic in his little finger than the lord had in his whole body was slightly unnerving.

"I was lost. It was dark, I mainly ran into them. One of them could sense me nearby. They took me in." Sebastian's smile widened as he was clearly lost in happier memories. "They taught me all they could in four years. I had never felt as accepted as I did with them. I had a family again that actually understood me. But then the whispers started... the prince had nearly died from an attack, and yet Emrys had not emerged."

Merlin shifted uncomfortably, blushing slightly. He didn't know what he was supposed to have done, he would have only been about twelve. But even so, it did feel like he had let his destiny down before he had even met it.

"The Druids knew, they knew the golden age was not yet, but if Uther's hatred continued this way, Arthur was not going to live long enough for his protector to appear. So I returned." The words fell heavily into the silence and Merlin felt a rush of sympathy for the man. He had found a home, and yet given it up to return to one where his father would have been ranting against people just like his own son. "I knew that if I could train with steel as well as magic, I could get close to Arthur, I could keep him safe until that time arrived. Now that time is done and my work is finished."

"I don't think that is true," Merlin said softly, finally standing up. "Arthur is in danger. Greg has taken him as bait to me. The voice in the cells, I think that was the master, the one that wants me. If I don't make it back from this, he is going to need your protection more than ever."

"You're not going."

"What?"

"You're not going alone. Let me come with you. Unless your clumsiness is an act as well, I've watched you, Emrys. You may be powerful, but you are completely hopeless. You'll never get there alive. And I can provide you with an excuse. I'll say I'm going hunting, that I need your services and Arthur agreed. I'm guessing no one officially knows he is missing?"

Merlin shook his head, his brain struggling to catch up with events. This man, the one that had been making his life a living hell for the last few days, was honestly offering to come with him to help protect him whilst he found Arthur?

"Why?" The servant didn't mean for it to come out that bluntly, but he just didn't understand. No one had truly wanted to help him like this before. He thought people had, Nimueh the first time he had met her, Edwin... but all just were serving their own purpose and had ended up trying to kill him. Could he take the risk? He wasn't sure how powerful Sebastian was, nor how quick with a blade he was? Could he risk going out into the forest alone with this man, knowing that if Sebastian betrayed him, it could mean Arthur's death?

"Believe it or not, not everyone wants Arthur dead, Emrys." In that straightforward answer, Merlin found that he believed the man.

"Merlin."

"Excuse me?"

"My name...Emrys is someone – something – else. My name is Merlin."

"Very well. Are you up to accompanying a visiting noble on a hunting trip, Merlin?"

"If my master requests it." Merlin responded, a small smile on his face matching the one on Sebastian's. There seemed to have sprung up some sort of mutual trust between the two of them, the need to protect Arthur forcing them both to forget the way Sebastian had been treating the warlock for the last few days. Merlin had a feeling he would never get an apology for that. The man might have stayed with the Druids for some time, but he was too much of a noble. Arthur would never apologise for something like that, he would just do something subtle that otherwise he would have left for Merlin. That was his way of saying sorry, and having become used to it, Merlin would have it no other way.

"Then let's go find us a prince." So saying, the pair were swiftly making their way to the stables, Sebastian staging a very loud (too loud, in Merlin's opinion) conversation that included the list of orders he was apparently making of the boy. Merlin thought he carried off the annoyed look very well, especially considering this noble apparently wanted to leave in the middle of the night. But what was a servant to do?

MMMM

Arthur slowly peeled his eyes open with a groan, his head throbbing and his mouth feeling dry. He would do anything for a drink, and yet somehow, he knew that was what Greg wanted. Make him unable to resist the next time liquid was offered to him, and no doubt send the prince into oblivion once again. No, not this time. Pushing himself upright, Arthur resumed his previous position with hugging his legs into his chest, resting his chin on his knees.

He had no idea what time it was, but judging by the slight lightening of the sky he could just about make out through the small window in the top of his cell, Arthur guessed it had to be just before dawn. A few more hours and he would have been missing for a day. Would anyone have noticed yet? He had no doubt that Merlin would have set off almost the second Arthur had disappeared; it was just how he was. But he also had the feeling that rather than informing the King and accompanying a band of trained and skilled knights to help the prince, his servant simply would have walked out on his own. If Merlin hadn't told anyone, it was possible no one had yet noticed. Arthur had never got around to delivering his report to the King, he had meant to do that just after the attack had happened. So it was entirely possible that Uther didn't even know his heir was conscious after Greg's first attack.

How did everything happen so quickly? The man had been missing for months, why now? Arthur sighed, his mind racing and causing his head to pound with even greater intensity as he tried to figure out what was going on. Then initial attack on the hunting party felt like months ago now, even if it was only a couple of days. For the Crown Prince of Camelot, Arthur hated not being in control of a situation, and considering how fast events had spiralled here, control was the last thing that he had.

Knowing that he must have been unconscious for some time as it had been late afternoon at the least when he passed out, Arthur stiffly hauled himself to his feet, groaning slightly as his legs protested to spending so long in the awkward position he had collapsed in. Slowly at first, and then more quickly, Arthur stretched out his muscles and began to pace again. Normally, he would do something more vigorous, something that would allow him to burn off the frustration and then be able to face Greg with a clear head. But considering he had already sworn that he would touch no food or water, even Arthur could see the foolishness in that plan.

"You don't have to think so hard you know, Your Highness. I can assure you, you are perfectly safe here, Sire." Arthur whipped around with a growl at Greg's voice. He half expected to once again not be able to see the man, instead just having to listen to his voice. So it came as some surprise that the man was actually standing the other side of the door, watching Arthur's pacing in something that could resemble amusement. He knew that Arthur wasn't getting out, and he knew that Arthur knew it as well. But knowing something and accepting it were two very different things, and Arthur wouldn't be a Pendragon if he didn't have that deep stubborn streak.

"Nowhere is perfectly safe," Arthur snarled, trying to sound threatening. If he was honest, it was one of the biggest bluffs he had ever done. If Greg had told him that he wanted to ransom him back to the King, or torture him until he confessed all of Camelot's secrets, the prince would have lifted his chin and told him to do his worst. But Greg wanted nothing of the sort. All he wanted was Merlin, and Arthur didn't have a comeback to that which didn't make him sound like he was begging the man to leave his friend out of this. Arthur would not stoop that low, he would not _beg_ a servant.

Greg didn't answer the prince verbally. Instead, his eyes turned black.

Arthur gasped in horror. It wasn't just the man's eyes that changed, his whole expression did. No longer was there the disgraced servant who still had some sort of respect for Arthur. Instead, it was twisted and cruel, the expression of the man who had attacked them in the woods. But before Arthur could even think about what was happening, he found that he was slowly being drawn back to the wall. Only after staring around for a moment in confusion did he realise that the chains were getting shorter. By the time his back hit the wall, he knew that he wouldn't be able to take so much as a step forward.

When Arthur was suitably restrained, Greg opened the door with just another pulse of his eyes. Arthur swallowed slightly as the man moved into the room, unable to hide his shiver. The room had been cold before, but it was as if the temperature had just plummeted with Greg's arrival. This hadn't happened before, and thinking back on what he had said about the magic, Arthur had a slight suspicion about what could possibly be happening.

"Who are you?" He called commandingly. Something told him that it was no longer Greg standing in front of him, meaning that Arthur could potentially be getting closer to finding out who this mysterious master was. Rather than answering straight away, Greg's hand outstretched, a cruel smirk on his face as Arthur found his feet leaving the floor.

Forcing himself not to panic, the prince glared. He might be chained and now pinned against a wall by magic, but he was not going to let whoever – or whatever – this was intimidate him.

"I order you to tell me who are you." He practically gasped, knowing that it came out far more hesitant than he could normally manage. Greg titled his head to one side, seeming to almost examine Arthur before lowering back to the floor again.

"Your soul is strong. The bonds of destiny stronger. He is coming."

"What? Who are you?"

"I am a something far older and more powerful than you could possibly imagine. You have no name in this tongue, but you can refer to me as Dreafela."

"And that means what..?" Arthur was not scared, he was a prince, he didn't get scared. It was simply the cold he was shaking from. At least, that was what he was telling himself.

"It means... That you will never leave here again, waiting for a rescue that will never succeed." Greg smirked again, the action making it seem like Arthur's blood was freezing. As the thing took a step forward, Arthur pressed himself into the wall. Damn his training and never showing fear. There was no one here to witness it, and something told him that the creature in front of him already knew precisely how terrified he was, even if Arthur hadn't been admitting it to himself. When the prince couldn't get any further back, Greg finally paused, black eyes searching Arthur intently.

"He's delayed. He cannot delay."

"Who?" But deep down, Arthur knew. After all, Greg had been gloating about how he was finally going to get revenge on Merlin for the whole time he had Arthur in his grasp, he had made it quite apparent that the prince was nothing in this game, it was all about his servant. Greg smiled at him, knowing that Arthur knew, and stretched out his hand again.

Despite knowing there was nowhere to go, Arthur still attempted to back further into the wall as the man laid his cold hand against Arthur's warm forehead, muttering something under his breath. For a moment, the prince felt the strangest sensation overcome him, almost as if he was leaving his own body, soaring through the forest, looking for something.

But the second he found that he was grounded again, Arthur gasped. However long that had taken had been long enough, and Greg had turned Arthur around. He was now facing the wall, arms no longer chained at waist level, but bound above his head.

"We should give him an incentive to hurry. I don't like delays."

"You won't get away with this." Arthur snarled, tugging at the manacles. But whilst his position had changed, the cuffs were still the same – still the perfect circle with no break in them at all. Arthur was still as stuck as ever and twisting his head around awkwardly, he glared at Greg. The man was simply standing there, watching him closely, before smiling and raising his hand to the opposite shoulder. He brought it down across him in a slashing motion, and Arthur gasped before steeling himself.

It was as if an invisible whip had struck him across the back, the blow harsh and stinging. Immediately, Arthur let his eyes focus on the brickwork in front of him, studying every tiny detail. He could handle this, he had been trained how.

But whilst the prince may have been trained how to deal with a normal whip, Uther had never trained him against a magical one. Every blow threw his concentration completely and by the tenth, all of Arthur's weight was hanging from his wrists. The prince was drenched in sweat, his breaths coming in ragged bursts as his back alternated between burning and stinging. He could feel tears involuntarily escaping from the corners of his eyes, running hotly down his cheeks. With his hands tied above him, Arthur had no way to brush them away.

Eventually, the whip stopped, and Arthur shakily leant his forehead against the coolness of the bricks, inwardly pleading that was it.

"Oh I am sorry, Sire, he wants this over and done with." Arthur had shut his eyes, but he didn't need to open them to know the entity had backed away, letting Greg come to the surface once more. For a moment, Arthur wondered whether the man was an innocent in all this, but when he felt Greg prod at the top of his back in apparent fascination, Arthur found that he didn't particularly care. Even if Greg hadn't asked for this, he was enjoying it. He was enjoying the power it was giving him over the prince, and the worst part was, Arthur could understand it. He had thrown the man out without a second thought, simply because he didn't have to think about it. Greg was a servant, Arthur could hire or sack them as he pleased apart from his own. Being a manservant to the Crown Prince meant his safety had to be considered, and Arthur knew that Merlin had no idea his job was probably one of the safest in the castle.

"Leave me." Arthur tried to command, doing all he could to not squirm away from Greg's probing hand. He couldn't keep up the pretence any longer, he just wanted to be alone.

"But you see, Sire, he promised that I could have my revenge. And he was right, you really are the easiest way to hurt Merlin, and as I have you here... it's really nothing personal."

Against a human, Arthur felt his resolve harden. He could handle whatever Greg decided to throw at him, determined that it wouldn't be use to hurt Merlin.

MMMM

"'lin...Merlin... Merlin!" With a cry, said warlock finally opened his eyes, only to see Sebastian leaning over him, looking concerned. As soon as Merlin's eyes opened, he quickly backed away, attempting to change his expression to one of indifference, but Merlin had seen it.

"Wha' happened?" The servant croaked. They had decided to get some rest for a few hours, more to keep the horses fresh rather than any desire to sleep themselves. Camp had been set up without a problem, Merlin sending out shields at Sebastian's request, just in case. It certainly had felt strange to have been asked to use magic, and by a noble nonetheless.

Merlin had begun sleeping fine, but then a strange sensation had taken over him. He felt like he had been flying, as if something was trying to suck him out of his body. What was stranger still was that he was sure that he could feel Arthur. As if something was leading him in the direction where the prince would be found, that directions were being provided for the lost warlock. That itself disturbed Merlin, thinking back to Greg once again. Was this the man's way of making sure that Merlin found Arthur?

"You suddenly started yelling Arthur's name and arching away from the ground as if in pain." Sebastian said quietly, watching the pale Merlin push himself into an upright position and sitting against a tree, shakily running a hand through his hair. For a moment, Merlin didn't answer, but as he felt the burning ache slowly ebb away from his back slightly, he knew that Sebastian would have to know.

"Greg's hurting him. Well, it is Greg, and then it isn't. It's like something was possessing him, and whatever it was, it was hurting Arthur." Merlin did not want to tell Sebastian he had just watched Arthur being flogged, and knew that it was no dream. But whilst Arthur had been spared seeing the whip he was being struck with, Merlin had seen it. And even thinking about it was making him shudder. How had Arthur not just screamed at the first impact? It was no normal whip he had been struck with, and although the man's agony was apparent by his fast breathing and slumped position, the prince had somehow been able to hold it in.

"Is he alive?" Sebastian asked bluntly, and Merlin turned horror-filled eyes on the man. He didn't actually know. The only way he could explain it was as if he had been summoned, something had wanted him to see that, a sense of urgency driving into the warlock in a way he had never experienced before. But as easily as he had been summoned, the warlock had found himself dismissed from the room again. His last image of Arthur was seeing the prince slumped against the wall, a tear trickling down his cheek as he gasped for breath.

"Yes." Merlin said with a certainty that he didn't fully believe. He was sure that he would feel it if Arthur had been killed, the man was his destiny, after all. But not only that, Merlin simply had to believe that there was still a friend there to be rescued. It was one thing if Greg killed him as the price of saving Arthur, Merlin could deal with that. He had done it before, after all. But even the idea that this might just be the one occasion where he was too late... Merlin couldn't deal with that, especially not as this time, it truly was his fault. "He has to be..."

"Merlin, listen to me." Sebastian was back in front of him again now, his tone one that expected to be obeyed. Surprisingly, Merlin found that he was obeying. Despite how much he might fight against Arthur, he still had grown used to obeying orders, and having someone with him that was used to giving them... it provided him with a sense of familiarity, a sense of security that he knew he would never be able to express his gratitude towards.

"You said Greg was possessed. Do you know what by? What are we about to walk in on?"

"I don't know."

"Think. There must be something..."

"I don't know!" Merlin yelled, pushing the man away and stalking to the edge of the small clearing they were in. Leaning heavily against a tree, Merlin folded his arms across his chest after dragging the back of his hand over his eyes, adamantly removing the moisture from them. Arthur was in trouble and in pain and Merlin didn't even know what he was supposed to be doing or why this thing wanted him. Normally, he would have run straight into the situation without thinking about it, simply determined to get Arthur out. But he knew that Sebastian wasn't going to let him do that this time, and the fact that the man seemed to believe that Merlin would have the answers was beginning to get to him. He wasn't some almighty warlock that could help Arthur be a great King. He was just a lost servant looking for his master, his friend.

"I'm sorry." Not expecting the words, Merlin jumped, only to find Sebastian hovering slightly behind him, his hands clasped behind his back. It looked like it was a great deal of effort for him to say the words, and after frowning momentarily, Merlin knew why. Sebastian had known him as a servant – one whom he didn't trust – long before he had known him as Emrys. It was automatic for him to act as the master, and expect whoever he was with to do as he commanded.

"I just don't know what I'm doing." Merlin whispered, finally admitting what he had been attempting to deny ever since he had watched Greg vanish with Arthur. He knew the only reason they had any inclination of where to look for the missing prince was because Greg wanted Merlin to find them. He knew full well they were walking straight into a trap, one that would most likely cost not only his life, but possibly Arthur's and Sebastian's as well. Too many had died because of him, because of the prophecy. He couldn't let anyone else suffer the same way.

"We'll find a way."

"How?"

"I don't know." Sebastian admitted, his tone sounding far more sincere than it had earlier. Merlin wasn't surprised, this man had given up everything to try and help Arthur, and now they were just going on a wild goose chase.

"We do." Both men jumped violently, Sebastian's hand going to his sword and Merlin letting his magic rush to the surface. Figures peeled themselves away from the trees surrounding the pair, their garments meaning they had blended in all but perfectly with their hoods up.

"Who are you?" Sebastian demanded, and one of the men stepped forward, pushing his hood back as he did so. He was young, no older than Sebastian at the most and had an easy grin.

"You don't recognise your old family, you are slipping, Seb."

"Adrian?" Sebastian's gasp was one of sheer joy, and before Merlin knew what was happening, they were surrounded by Druids, all mainly ignoring him and going forward to meet Sebastian.

_You __will __find __the __way, __Emrys._

The voice in his head made Merlin jump, and he looked around the men anxiously. Only one hadn't moved forward, and Merlin could tell by his posture that he was old. Judging by the way his head was turned towards the warlock, Merlin knew it was him that had spoken, and tried to shoot him a grateful smile. He had no idea whether the man received it or not, for a hand suddenly landed on his shoulder, making Merlin jump.

"So, Seb says that you have a bit of a dilemma." The man who had stepped forward, Adrian, was standing over him, the smile still on his face but his eyes twinkling in concern. Merlin nodded mutely, knowing there was no point in denying it.

"He's lost his destiny." Being back amongst the Druids had changed Sebastian beyond recognition. The man had finally relaxed, his face looking years younger now that he was smiling properly. He looked like he belonged, despite the difference in their attire.

"Ah, that is a problem. Well, step this way, young Emrys, and we'll see what we can do about that." The friendliness of the Druids made Merlin smile, and he allowed them to lead the way back to their camp where a big fire was roaring and something cooking on top.

As the sun climbed into the clear blue sky, Merlin told them everything.


	8. Chapter 8

**Wow, to say this has taken on a life of its own is a bit of an understatement. Thanks for the awesome support!**

There was an atmosphere in the camp that Merlin had never yet come across. They had listened in silence to his story, never once interrupting him. It was the type of attention he had seen the Knights give Arthur when he was drilling them on something, and if he was honest, Merlin found it unnerving. He had always marvelled at the way the prince held his men's attention, and yet, despite his arrogance, Merlin knew that it didn't really go to his head. He respected the men as much as they respected him.

But surrounded by Druids that were hanging onto his every word, one of whom he had been determined to think wanted to only get in his way, Merlin found himself shifting uncomfortable.

"So, clearly some kind of possession, but something with black eyes? I've never heard of that." Merlin felt his heart sink as Adrian mused out loud what was going through his head. It was clear the old man who had spoken to Merlin telepathically was the Druid leader – Horath he had found out was his name. Merlin was no fool, he could see the way the rest of the group was avoiding the old man. There was something else going on there, and Merlin was sure that he wasn't mistaking the looks. They were all scared of him, apart from Adrian. That man seemed to be the leader of the group, all of them looking to him to provide the answers. Merlin could see the trust in their eyes. They relied on him to solve all of their problems.

It was strange watching Sebastian doing it as well. It was clear the two had a deep friendship, they way they had interacted with each other reminded Merlin of his own relationship with the prince, and only managed to create a pang of worry for the man. He never thought that he would want another vision of what was happening to Arthur the way he had the night before, but now, Merlin was almost longing for it. It was the only clue he had to how the prince was doing, whether Merlin was going to need help to get him out or not. It would also provide clues as to where Arthur was being held, something that Merlin was getting desperately worried about. He was running out of time.

"Yes, you have." Horath responded slowly, and Merlin immediately found himself paying attention. They had been sitting here for hours, debates raging back and forth about possible places that Arthur could be held in, whether a magical whipping meant the wounds would take longer or quicker to heal than normal. But it had only been now, some god forsaken time in the morning, they had come onto the problem of what they were actually up against.

"What is it?" Merlin asked, his arms wrapped around his knees and his back leaning on a log. He had long since given up on the energy of holding himself upright, his chin resting on his knees as he glanced around the group. Huge bags were under his eyes, giving him a slightly haunted appearance. This was now day three, the day he had to find Arthur or risk never finding him again. He also knew that it was the day Leon said that he would go to the King. No matter what the outcome was going to be, Merlin knew that they were running out of time.

"A Dreafela." The rest of the clearing sucked in a sharp breath, even the leaves on the trees seemed to stop. Merlin, however, just blinked.

"A what?" If Gaius hadn't been able to discover anything in all of his many books, Merlin had no idea how they expected him to know what one of them was. "Actually, don't bother with the what, just how do I defeat it?"

If he was honest, he was too tired for details. He somehow how to find Arthur, get him out even though he knew the prince was injured and ward off the questions about what on earth Greg had been coming after him the whole time. He just hoped that he could play on the disgraced servant's need for revenge and that Arthur would be too out of it to question it until Merlin had thought of something better.

"You can't." Adrian whispered, making Merlin look at him properly. The man was like Arthur, used to being in charge, used to making the decisions. But right now, he looked nothing short of a lost little boy, glancing at Horath desperately.

"What do you mean, I can't?" Merlin asked quietly, a slightly dangerous note entering his voice that seldom made an appearance. They knew who he was, they knew what he was capable of. So to be told that he couldn't defeat something that was interfering with his destiny was not what Merlin needed to hear.

"Is this what killed..?" Sebastian's question was left unfinished, but one of the other Druids nodded solemnly. Sebastian made a movement, almost as if he was going to squeeze Adrian's shoulder, but thought better of it at the last minute.

"What do you mean, I can't defeat it?" Merlin almost yelled, his exhaustion getting the better of him. Sometimes, he really hated his destiny and the fact that it was down to him to save Arthur and put him in situations like this. But he knew that was just the tiredness talking. He would have come after Arthur no matter what his destiny. It was his fault that his friend was in danger, Merlin was not the type to sit back and let someone else do all the work for a problem he created.

"The Dreafela is a creature of old. Older than the Old Religion, some believe that it is older than time itself." Horath said slowly, and the warlock found himself hanging on every word. He was now ignoring the uneasy glances spreading around the rest of them at Horath's words. If this man knew anything that could help save Arthur, Merlin was listening."You cannot defeat it because everything magical you throw at it only strengthens it."

Merlin swallowed hard. That wasn't good. In the vague plan that he had been forming, it had included somehow sneaking in, blasting the thing out of Greg, grabbing Arthur and running. But with the "blasting" part potentially not going to work, Merlin wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now. But Horath hadn't finished.

"You would not get the chance to use magic against it though. It incapacitates magic, you would be helpless. The last victim we knew it took, we found her tied on an altar. It had bled the magic from her, literally. You cannot face this thing, Emrys."

"You know that I don't have a choice. Arthur will be killed."

"Your magic is too strong. If this thing drains you, nothing will ever stop it. The magic it steals only lasts for a set amount of time, it's why it has to use possession to be able to stay in this world. If it takes yours, it can take form, it will never drain."

"I don't care!" Merlin yelled, tears of frustration in his eyes. "I'm supposed to be powerful, I'll defeat it. But my friend is in there, because of me. Don't you dare tell me that I can't go and try to get him out. Arthur's not only my destiny and my prince, he is my friend. Anyone who tries to stop me will discover just who Emrys is!"

Climbing angrily to his feet, Merlin had had enough. He had not come this far with keeping Arthur alive to be told that he was better to leave the prince to his fate just so some creature didn't get the chance to kill him. How many things were supposed to have not been able to be defeat that the pair of them had sent to the next world? The Druids were the ones claiming that Merlin's magic was unlike anything before, so why couldn't they go on a little faith that he might be the one who would be able to rid the world of the Dreafela?

"Emrys, you must listen to reason..." Adrian had half risen as Merlin made to storm angrily out of the clearing, but still the warlock found himself stopping. This wasn't him storming off in anger, that wasn't who he was. He was just so tired and frustrated... Even so, he paused at Adrian's words, prepared to listen one last time. But someone else was just as angry on his behalf.

"His name is Merlin!" Sebastian snapped, stepping in between Merlin and Adrian. The servant couldn't help but feel a flicker of worry. Sebastian knew these men better than he did, and if he was taking physical measures to keep Merlin from them, did that mean they were capable of so much more compared to what Merlin believed?

"Stay out of this, Seb. If Em... fine, Merlin, goes, the Dreafela will drain him and all will be lost. Arthur would be killed anyway, along with every other human in the Five Kingdoms. Nothing will be able to stand against it, not if it has Emrys' magic. He'll be killing us all by going."

"Who said that the Dreafela will have the chance to drain him?"

"What?" Merlin wasn't the only one confused. Adrian too had a frown on his face, but his expression was slowly turning horrified. "You can't!"

"Can't what?" Merlin cried, feeling that he was missing the point on something.

"It will bide them time, you know it will."

"Sebastian, you cannot go and offer yourself to the Dreafela in order to give Emrys time to get the prince out. It will rip you to shreds, and then still be a threat."

"Not so much of a threat compared to if it takes Merlin." Sebastian argued, but Merlin pushed his way back in between them.

"No one is coming! No one else is going to die for me! Enough pain has come from me having to hide!" He yelled, tears stinging his eyes as he thought about the witch finder and how it had nearly cost Gaius his life to protect his ward. No more people were going to get hurt so Merlin's secret could remain just that. "I'll find a way of getting Arthur out. I won't let it drain me or whatever the hell it does. But I won't let anyone else get hurt!"

"And what if it does drain you? Who will save the rest of us then? It cannot be allowed your magic, Emrys." Adrian snapped, clearly coming to the end of his patience. Merlin glanced around the group, startled to see that they were all suddenly armed and seemed to be stepping forward. In one motion, Sebastian drew his sword.

"We learnt about the prophecy together, Adrian. Are you really going to try and interfere with things beyond your control?"

"Don't turn against me, Seb..."

"Don't turn against him then."

"Please, everyone just stop! I'll be going now, there is no need for this," Merlin cried frantically, beginning to let his magic build up within him. For once, he would be able to use his power without having to hide who he was. They knew about Emrys, they should know that it was a bad idea to get in Merlin's way, especially when it came to rescuing Arthur.

"I'm afraid you aren't going anywhere." Adrian said, almost sounding apologetic as he drew his own sword. "I cannot take the chance of this thing beating you. The world as we know it would be destroyed if you refuse to listen to reason."

Merlin sighed. He didn't want to have to do this; it was against everything that he used his magic for. But if they were going to get in the way of his destiny, he had no choice. He grimaced apologetically at Sebastian, knowing the man was only trying to help him. Yet Merlin had meant what he said – he wasn't going to let the man get himself killed just so that Merlin stood a chance.

"_Oferswinge_!" He yelled, his hand rising. Immediately, everyone in front of him was thrown to the floor by his magic, one of the more unlucky Druids crashing into a tree as he did so. Merlin knew that the man was going to be okay though, and without waiting, he turned and ran.

Unfortunately, he had forgotten about Druids tendencies to spread out. Years of being hunted by Uther meant that they were constantly on their guard. Merlin had cleared his way from the main group, but had forgotten that not everyone had been present at the meeting. He only heard the crunch of footsteps when they were directly behind him. He didn't even have the chance to turn, let alone lash out, before something solid struck him in the back of the head.

The warlock was unconscious before he hit the ground.

MMM

Arthur was focusing on his breathing as a way of keeping calm. Greg had turned him back around again, meaning the prince was once more facing the rest of the cell. But he knew that it was no kindness that had caused the man to do this. Instead, Arthur was forced to keep his back arched to stop the wounds from touching the cold wall behind him. He could still feel the hot trickle of blood occasionally seeping down his back even though it had been many hours since the whipping. His shoulders were screaming their protest at being held in the unnatural position for so long and his arms and legs were both trembling from fatigue.

Even so, the defiance was still burning brightly in Arthur's eyes. Greg was getting frustrated, even now pacing up and down in front of the restrained prince, muttering under his breath. It was only because he could see that the man was sweating slightly that he knew it really was Greg and not the Dreafela in front of him. Greg almost seemed as scared of it as Arthur was (not that he would ever admit that out loud). If the servant hadn't taken apparent pleasure in examining the wounds on Arthur's back very slowly, the prince might have even felt sorry for him. But whilst the Dreafela clearly had a hold over Greg, Arthur knew the man had welcomed that hold in the very beginning at least, and actions like that tended to put a cap on Arthur's sympathy.

"Why hasn't he come yet, your three days are nearly up!" Suddenly realising that Greg was standing right in front of him, Arthur lifted his chin, gazing at the opposite wall over the man's head with an expression of indifference.

"Maybe because you didn't give him a map?" He drawled. He had long since given up trying to persuade the man to leave Merlin out of this, his arguments falling on deaf ears every time. He was just thankful the loyal fool hadn't yet turned up. With any luck, Merlin would get himself completely lost and when Arthur escaped, he would find the servant bumbling around in the forest outside. For Arthur still had no doubt that Merlin would have attempted to come, no matter what he told Greg, He knew the man better than that.

"He doesn't need a map to find you." Greg scoffed, and despite himself, Arthur frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing, Sire." The prince made to shrug dismissively, but only realised too late that was not a good idea. Waves upon waves of pain shot down his back and Arthur found himself biting his lip in an attempt to not cry out. When his vision cleared and he shakily leant his head back on the wall – making sure that his back didn't touch it – he found Greg watching him closely.

"Hurts, doesn't it?"

"It's nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you." Arthur spat, trying to regain some control. He wrapped his hands around the chains and pulled himself into a more upright position, stopping his wrists from taking all of his weight and trying to force his wobbling legs to support him. He was not going to appear weak in front of someone like Greg!

"Of course, Sire." Greg responded dismissively, going back to pacing in front of the prince. If Arthur thought Greg was capable of deep thinking, he would have said that the man was doing it on purpose, showing off the fact that he could move when Arthur could not. Eventually, he came to a stop, sighing irritably. For a spilt second, his eyes flared black and Arthur tensed, but it was only seconds before Greg was back in control, a bowl of water in his hands. It simply confirmed Arthur's thoughts that the man had no magic of his own.

Arthur wasn't given the chance to think for much longer though. Greg stepped up to the prince, lifting the bowl and pressing it against Arthur's lips. Despite being parched, Arthur turned his head away.

"Please don't make this awkward, My Lord."

"Then let me go." Arthur growled, keeping his lips tightly shut and his head turned away. Greg merely sighed, before grabbing a fistful of Arthur's hair and yanking his head back again. He pinched Arthur's nose, and even though he tried to hold it for as long as he could, Arthur was eventually forced to open his mouth slightly to breathe. Greg wasted no time, forcing the liquid down Arthur's throat even as the prince choked and tried to spit it back out again. But he was too late. The second the first drop of water hit his stomach, it was like his body no longer belonged to him and the rest slipped down easily.

Before the bowl was empty, Arthur had been dragged back into the black oblivion, hanging helplessly from his chains.

MMM

The first thing that Merlin became aware of was that he was on his back, his hands digging in uncomfortably underneath him. The second thing followed a split second afterwards, and that was someone was forcing something down his throat, immediately making him choke as he registered what was happening.

"He's waking up!"

"Then hurry up!" Whatever it was increased in speed as it trickled into him, and Merlin struggled feebly, his head spinning even as a hand closed over his mouth, giving him no choice but to swallow whatever it was. Within seconds, his head was spinning even more, his stomach revolting as it tried to reject the liquid. But it wasn't allowed too, a whispered word from somewhere above him calming it down again.

As he lay panting on the ground, Merlin wasn't sure whether he should feel relieved when the person over him backed away. It was only then he realised his unnatural position was because his hands were tied behind him. Rolling to one side with a groan, his wavering vision found Sebastian first. His back was against a tree, and two Druids stood in front of him, swords drawn. Merlin didn't need to ask to know that he was being guarded, most likely from interfering from what they were doing to him.

That was something that was of a worry. What had they just done? Merlin groped for his magic to release his hands, and felt like he had been chucked in an icy river.

"No!" His yell ringing out into the air, Merlin knew by the way someone sighed in what sounded like relief that the tonic had had the desired effect. Said effect was scaring Merlin more than he thought was possible. They had cut him off from his magic. It was still there, but every time Merlin tried to use it, it slipped away from him as easily as water slipped from his hands. He didn't even know that doing something like that was possible, but no matter what he tried, he had no more magic at his disposal at this moment in time than Arthur did.

"No," he whimpered slightly, his voice dropping as fear leaked in. He tugged frantically on the ropes around his wrists, scrabbling inside of himself for some sort of hold on his magic. Nothing. Arthur needed him, they couldn't do this! "Please, give it back..."

"We can't." It was Adrian standing over him, a cool expression on his face as he watched Merlin struggle. "We take no satisfaction in this, Emrys, but the Dreafela cannot be allowed your magic."

"At least untie him!" Sebastian yelled over, the loud noise making Merlin screw up his face in a grimace.

"He'll still go after the prince. No, we are keeping him here and keeping him alive until the danger has passed. Emrys is needed more than you know, he cannot be allowed to die."

"So you'll let Arthur die?" Merlin shouted, his voice hoarse as he pulled frantically at the ropes, only succeeding in digging it into his wrists even more. "He's much a part of the prophecy as I am, he'll die if I don't go."

"His death won't be the destruction of absolutely everything. Yours will. I'm sorry." And with that, Adrian walked off towards Sebastian, leaving Merlin squirming on the floor. There was no way that a simple tonic would be able to cut him off from his magic, not if he was as powerful as they all believed. But whether it genuinely was that effective, or whether the blow to his head was upsetting his control more than normal, nothing Merlin did let him do anything more than brush against his magic. Merlin couldn't help but see the irony of the situation. If he went, his magic would be so powerful that he could destroy the world. So instead he was left helpless and bound on a forest floor, more unprotected than he had ever been in his life. Talk about extremities.

Merlin tried to navigate himself into a more comfortable position, rolling onto his side and curling his knees up to his chest, shivering slightly. It was only then that he noticed it was mid-day. He only had half a day left to escape, find Arthur and get the prince out. All without the use of magic thanks to the Druids. It had seemed like fate was against him ever since the three servants had attacked him in the corridor, determined to stop him riding out after Arthur. Even now, nothing was going his way. He truly had thought the Druids would be able to help him, not make the situation worse. The only saving factor was that Sebastian looked as outraged about it all as Merlin felt. If the man had led him straight into a trap, Merlin would have felt an even bigger fool.

"Please," he begged, trying to roll himself forward towards Adrian, desperate for the man to understand why it was so important that he had to go. "Destinies be damned, he is my friend. I can't let him die, you have to help me. I'm begging you, just let me go."

"I'm sorry, Emrys. You are needed too much."

"Damn it, I won't let him die!" Merlin yelled, struggling fruitlessly against the bonds holding him. "You can't stop me! I will get free, and I will get my magic back. You can't hold me here..."

"Adrian, the forest, we don't know who is out there..." Merlin watched as another of the Druids, one far younger, walked up to Adrian, the tension obvious on his face. Merlin didn't recognise him, he hadn't been in the clearing during the discussions. The warlock mildly wondered if this was the man responsible for knocking him out and therefore the predicament he was now finding himself in.

"I know."

Merlin watched in silence as Adrian walked over, trying to use his expression to persuade the man that he would gain nothing from keeping Merlin like this. If nothing else, Merlin found it was almost as if he had an itch that he couldn't reach, the sense of being cut off from his magic almost suffocating him. It was as much part of him as being a prince was part of Arthur; it simply felt wrong not being able to get a hold on his power.

"Please..." he whispered, feeling the faintest ray of hope as Adrian bent down next to him, a sorrowful look in his eyes. Surely the man had to understand, he had to know how much this hurt...

"You have to stop yelling, Emrys. This place is full of bandits."

"Why don't you just club them over the head?" Merlin spat, turning his head away, hopes diminished quicker than they had been formed. He had tears of frustration in his eyes. He knew that if he hadn't been caught unawares, they would have never been able to drug him. Arthur was always going on at him to be more alert, and now it seemed that fault may cost the prince his life. Adrian placed his hand on Merlin's cheek, turning his face back.

"We're trying to protect you."

"The only way you can protect me is by saving Arthur." Merlin muttered. "Please, just let me go."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't do this!" Merlin was yelling again now, struggling more frantically as he tried to get free, anger beginning to spark into life once more. "Please, I'm begging you! I can save him, I won't destroy everything, I swear! Let me go! Please, just let me go!"

A hand was placed over his mouth, muffling the noise even though Merlin kept yelling. He had never felt so helpless. It was one thing to not use his magic in public in order to keep both himself and – in the long run – Arthur alive, but to physically not be able to use it... Merlin had once told Gaius that he was nothing without his magic. Lying bound on a forest floor with absolutely nothing he could do to free himself, he was beginning to see how true it was.

Twisting his head under the hand, Merlin kicked out with his legs at the same time, refusing to just lie here and take it. Adrian sighed above him, before beginning to chant. Despite trying his utmost to interrupt the man, Adrian was obviously used to making spells with other things going on around him, he barely even noticed Merlin kicking his ankle. As soon as he finished chanting, Merlin stiffened in surprise. His eyes widened in something that could resemble betrayal before they rolled up into his head and he slumped, all struggles ceasing.

"What have you done?" Sebastian's voice sounded low and almost scared as he watched Adrian haul the unconscious Merlin over his shoulder, still leaving him bound.

"Magical sleep. The only way he will wake up is if someone says the counter-spell. He's too important to escape, we can't take the risk. He's fighting against the drug too strongly. We are now the only ones that can wake him up, he can't do it himself. Don't make me do the same to you, old friend."

Sebastian looked like he was going to fight against the Druids. But then he saw Merlin's limp and bound form, and seemed to realise that it would get him nowhere and he mutely nodded, surrendering completely to his old friends. Adrian walked over, Merlin still over his shoulder before placing a hand on Sebastian's own shoulder.

"You can come home, Seb." He whispered gently, and despite himself, Sebastian had to smile. It would be good to be able to be himself for a bit without having to pretend.

**I know I'm probably about to get a load of flames saying Merlin wouldn't be that weak blah blah blah, that's what always happens every time I make him vulnerable lately. All I'm saying is have you been watching? He gets defeated! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you so much for the amazing reviews once again. And now things get even more confusing with the Druids! :)**

There was something on his forehead, Merlin was sure of it. He was struggling to claw his way back from the darkness, the touch somehow being the one thing that was grounding him, helping his mind fight back the darkness that had been forced upon it. With a groan, Merlin realised just how much his head was pounding, only to then suck in a sharp breath in panic. The second he had made a noise, something had closed over his mouth. Not yet being alert, Merlin could only think of the tonic, being forced to swallow it and the way it had cut his magic off, and immediately struggled against the grip.

"Shh, Merlin, easy now." Through a fog-filled mind, Merlin didn't register the voice. All he knew was that he still couldn't grasp his magic when he instinctively struck for it, and that only caused him to panic even more. He could feel that his arms were still pinned behind him, so Merlin kicked out, squirming on the floor as he tried to move away from the hold. The voice cursed, and suddenly there was pressure on his legs, holding him still as the hand over his mouth tightened. Merlin wasn't sure whether it should be a relief or not when the hand on his forehead disappeared.

He blinked a few times, clarity slowly beginning to return to him. As his sight cleared, he caught sight of who it was that was with him. Sebastian looked strained and nothing short of exhausted as he kept one arm over Merlin's legs, pinning them down whilst making sure to muffle the boy's cries. He seemed to notice that Merlin was once more aware of his surroundings, and looked the warlock directly in the eye.

"Quiet, now." He warned softly, before tentatively lifting his hand. Merlin swallowed a few times, but didn't make a noise. He was in no position to fight back, and as of yet, he didn't know what Sebastian wanted. When voicing that thought, the noble looked at him sympathetically.

"If I knew they were going to try and stop us, I would never have let you tell them what was going on with Arthur and the Dreafela."

"What are you doing?" Merlin repeated hoarsely. The last thing he remembered was Adrian chanting something and his whole body feeling heavy. Then everything had turned black and he had known nothing else until the feeling of a hand on his forehead. He could take a guess what Adrian had done, and whilst he by no means agreed with what the man did – it was getting in between him and his destiny, after all – Merlin could understand it. The man seemed to genuinely want to help, and had tried to do so in the only way he could see. If he was honest, Merlin knew it had been the only way, anything less and the warlock would have made sure that he had gone after Arthur, with or without magic. Sebastian, however, he couldn't quite figure out. He partly blamed it on his murky mind, but the noble had claimed the Druids were his family. It was one thing running from a kingdom that hated magic in order to help Merlin, but would he really go against the Druids?

"Believe it or not, Merlin, things here aren't what they seem." Sebastian whispered, clearly making sure to keep his voice low. He climbed to his feet and gripped Merlin's upper arm, hauling him upright as well. But he made no move to free Merlin's bound hands.

"Let me go," Merlin half hissed and half begged. There was no point in sounding threatening, for without his magic, he was nothing more than a scrawny servant. He couldn't even hold a sword properly, what on earth was he supposed to do against Sebastian?

"I am." The man hissed back, looking slightly annoyed as he tugged on Merlin's arm to make him move. "You wouldn't be awake if it wasn't for me."

Considering how he had felt upon waking, Merlin knew that was true. But he still didn't see how Sebastian was helping him get away. He was pulled out of the rough looking tent he had been in and into the surrounding trees, Sebastian hissing at him to stay quiet when Merlin's foot caught on an exposed root.

"Then untie me!"

"That will be the least of your worries if you don't be quiet." The man snapped back, and Merlin blinked in astonishment. He had heard the man angry at him; Sebastian had cornered him enough times when he believed that Merlin wanted to harm the prince. But there was another note in his voice this time, something that really took the warlock by surprise. Sebastian sounded worried. It was more than even that. He sounded scared.

Unfortunately for Merlin, his distraction over Sebastian's tone of voice meant that he wasn't paying attention to where he was going. His foot once again caught on a root, and he was sent pitching forward. With no use of his hands to stop himself, the servant hit the ground hard, unable to stop the cry of pain and surprise from escaping him. Sebastian dropped down beside him instantly, his hand once more slamming over Merlin's mouth as he held them both still on the ground for a long moment. It was only the over-reaction that seemed to betray how worried Sebastian was that Merlin didn't struggle.

He regretted it. As soon as Sebastian thought it was safe to move, he rose to his knees, leaving Merlin lying on the ground. The boy could do nothing as the noble simply tugged up his neckerchief, effectively gagging him with it before standing up properly. One hand entwined in the material on Merlin's shoulder and the warlock was jerked to his feet. But Sebastian was clearly too worried about what was going to happen. He bent down slightly, wrapping his other hand around Merlin's knees. Realising what he was going to do, Merlin tried stepping backwards, but there was no where he could go, nothing he could say to protest before the noble had tipped him over his shoulder.

With quick and confident strides, Sebastian strode from the camp, taking Merlin with him. For his part, the warlock tried struggling against Sebastian's grip, but nothing he did broke the grip. Not to mention he didn't particularly fancy falling, so in the end just fell still. Rather than just letting it happen though, Merlin went back to trying to get a hold on his magic.

It was no good. No matter what Merlin tried, he only brushed against his magic before it trickled out of his grip again. He had never been this out of control of it, even as a baby from what his mother had said. It was both frustrating and scaring him, and out of pure instinct, Merlin struggled violently against Sebastian, trying to do something to stop the predicament he was in. He knew that it was causing annoyance if nothing else by the way the noble kept swearing under his breath as he was forced to adjust his hold four times in a row, but eventually, he tipped Merlin back on his feet.

With his hands bound behind him and his mouth silenced, Merlin did the only thing he could. He glared somewhat impressively at the man, and deep down, he felt some sort of satisfaction when Sebastian shifted uncomfortably. But Merlin wasn't going to hang around to find out how effective his glare was. Slowly at first, he backed up a few paces before pelting for the trees.

He only made it a few steps. Sebastian was onto the warlock before Merlin had time to comprehend what was happening. There was something urgent in the man's actions as he snagged the back of Merlin's collar, whirled the warlock around and practically slammed him back down onto the ground. Merlin had no intention of staying there, but as soon as he hit the floor, Sebastian dropped behind him, pressing his knee into the small of his back and keeping the furiously struggling Merlin on the ground. Eventually, the noble pressed one hand to the back of Merlin's neck, stilling his movements.

"I know what this looks like, Merlin, honestly I do. But please, we are trying to help you. We have to get you away from the camp, and I know you have no reason to trust me. This way means that if someone did see us, they would be fooled into thinking that I wasn't helping..."

In all honesty, Merlin had no idea what it was that Sebastian wanted him to think. The man had awoken him from a magical sleep that the warlock didn't think that he would be able to get out of on his own, which seemed to imply that he did want to help. He had then left him bound and proceeded to gag him before forcibly hauling him away from the camp, and even now, he wasn't letting the warlock go anywhere. What was going on? Merlin let out something muffled in the gag, and Sebastian looked like he was about to contemplate removing it, but before he could do so, there came the sound of soft footsteps through the undergrowth.

"Don't move," Sebastian hissed, rising to his feet and drawing his sword. Merlin rolled over so that he could get a better look at what was going on, but surprisingly decided to stay on the floor. If it was going to come to a fight, then Merlin wanted to make himself as less of a target as he could manage considering he had nothing to defend himself with. He still had to get free in order to get out there after Arthur.

"Seb?" Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief, and Merlin tensed in horror as Adrian stepped out of the bushes, looking as tense and alert as his old friend. Merlin shook his head pleading, tears in his eyes. The last time he had seen Adrian, he had lost his magic. The man bent down beside the restrained warlock and gently tugged the gag out of his mouth.

"Please," Merlin found that he was whispering, although he wasn't sure why. "Please, just let me go. All I want to do is find Arthur and go home..."

"We know," Sebastian cut in, resting a hand on the crouched Adrian's shoulder, his eyes burning with sympathy. "Give us a moment to make sure we are safe, and we'll explain what is going on."

Stunned, Merlin did as he was told and watched the two Druids as they set about making sure the small clearing they were situated in was secure. Both were mumbling spells, and Merlin felt his magic stir, itching to be set free. It was strange, it had never wanted to burst forth in the way it did now ever before, and yet now was the one time that it couldn't do so. It didn't take long for the men to determine that the clearing was as safe as it was ever going to be, and Sebastian propped Merlin against a tree. The warlock refused to let his guard down though, noting that he hadn't yet been untied. Whether they wanted to help him or not, he was still effectively their prisoner at this moment in time.

"The Dreafela isn't the only thing that poses a threat to you and your magic, Emrys." Adrian said bluntly, not giving Merlin any time to even try and question anything. The warlock simply blinked at him, his confused mind trying to process what was going on. Adrian sighed, sharing a long glance with Sebastian before settling himself in front of the bound servant.

"Horath is not what he seems. In fact, he is unstable. If he thought he could gain something from the great Emrys, he would have done anything to get it, no matter the cost to you. He's power crazy and has murdered more than one person to obtain control over their magic. We keep him here because he cannot go against us all, whereas if he was left to wander, he would be able to pick individuals off."

Merlin couldn't help but shudder slightly. He wasn't sure whether he perhaps preferred being told about some ancient creature that he couldn't defeat. There was something more grounding about going against a creature of magic compared to a human who had lost their way.

"We had to control you back there... if he felt your power... I know how charming and reassuring he can seem, it has cost many their lives. But if he thought he could get close to you, he would have killed you before you knew what happened. Even now, he's most likely watching the camp. It's why we couldn't just let you walk out of there. If he thought we were helping you, chances are he would lash out, and I'm not risking my family for you, prophecy or not. Hopefully this way, he believes that we mean you harm, and whilst it sickens me to say this, he'll let it happen that way."

Now Merlin frankly felt sick. He thought Greg had been bad when it came to wanting to put people in their places, but to hear a tale like that? Considering Merlin had wanted to trust Horath, there had been something about him that reminded him of Gaius, even the Dragon. Was he that easily taken in by people that he could have let himself get killed without realising where the threat was coming from?

"Why didn't you just tell me to leave?"

"You don't know where Arthur is." Sebastian responded bluntly. "The Druids had answers about him, would you have really walked away from your chance of finding the prince?"

"And your offer of help? Saying that you would go in to distract him whilst I got Arthur out? That was all an act as well?"

"No." Merlin flinched as Sebastian moved over to him, reaching behind his back. He couldn't help but squirm when he felt the cold edge of a blade against his wrists, and Sebastian cuffed him over the head lightly. "Stay still," he ordered, before resuming what he was doing. Once again, Merlin didn't see that he had much choice, but was still surprised when his bindings fell away. He brought his wrists around in front of him, massaging the soreness out of them whilst watching the two men guardedly.

"What do you want from me?" He asked quietly. He might have been freed, but they were blocking any way out. He still couldn't get a grip on his magic much to his ever growing frustration. He was still helpless.

"To help you save Arthur. Merlin, I'm sorry I had to do what I did. I'm sorry I had to take your magic like that, it was the only thing I could think of to stop Horath killing you there and then, I could see the look in his eye, the change in the way he was sitting..."

Merlin shuddered. He hadn't noticed anything different about Horath. Was the man really that far gone that he could make insanity seem like the norm? Maybe they had saved his life? But Merlin wasn't really thinking about that. Something Adrian had said caught his attention, and Merlin frowned.

"You haven't taken my magic."

"What? Yes, the drug, Merlin, I'm sorry, it stops magic..."

"Stops it, yes. Taken it, no." As the two men exchanged quizzical glances, Merlin pushed himself into a more upright position, leaning back against a tree as he did so. He frowned at them. "I still have it. I can still feel my magic, I just can't get a grip on it."

Whilst he didn't know how they were going to react, Merlin certainly wasn't expecting both Adrian and Sebastian to look nothing short of stunned.

"Your magic is still there?"

"Yes?" Merlin replied uncertainly. He couldn't help but think that perhaps something had not gone the way it should have, especially when Adrian let out a whistle of disbelief.

"How powerful are you?" At Merlin's blank look, he sat down cross-legged in front of the warlock. "That drug should strip someone's magic from them completely. Not permanently," he hastily added, seeing the alarmed look on Merlin's face. "But you shouldn't even feel your magic. Apparently it's not strong enough to go against you."

Merlin merely blinked at them. He was tired, stiff, fed up of being kept in the dark about what was really going on, and above all else, he was worried. He knew his time was up with finding Arthur, and had no idea what Greg planned to do with the prince if Merlin should fail. In all honesty, he wasn't sure what Arthur's fate would have been even if Merlin had got there. If the Dreafela was after the warlock, then Arthur would have already played his part by then. Letting out a soft groan of frustration, Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

"Horath is your problem. Arthur is mine. And right now, Greg has probably killed him or something because I didn't get there, thanks to you." He didn't realise how hollow and empty he sounded until a comforting hand landed on his shoulder.

"It's never too late, Merlin. Greg wouldn't kill Arthur. He gave you the time frame to stop you getting the Knights. He still wants you too badly. And do you honestly think that he wouldn't make you feel it if he killed the prince?"

"But... I still don't know where to look!"

"I do." Adrian's voice made both Merlin and Sebastian jump, both turning to face the man. Merlin stared at him. Why hadn't he said anything before? Adrian seemed to know what was going through his head. "I meant what I said earlier, Emrys. It's too dangerous for you to give yourself up to the Dreafela, Horath is a better option compared to that thing... but now, however..."

"Adrian?" Sebastian prompted when the man fell silent, staring at Merlin thoughtfully. Merlin couldn't help but shift uncomfortably. In the role of a servant, not to mention how long he had spent hiding who he really was, Merlin was not used to having eyes on him. Especially when those said eyes knew precisely what he was capable of. After so long pretending to just be the clumsy servant, it was strange being able to be himself.

"The drug has at least suppressed his magic. What if the Dreafela can't sense it anymore? We could... could go with your initial suggestion, Seb. We'll distract it, at this moment in time, our magic will appear stronger whilst Merlin gets Arthur out."

"I thought you said the drug wasn't strong enough to stop me?" Merlin muttered. He was not happy with the idea of the two men willing to risk themselves in order to help him save Arthur. If the prince wasn't involved, Merlin would have no qualms about telling them precisely what he thought. But this was his destiny he was talking about; he knew that he had to get to Arthur, no matter what the cost.

It was a mistake voicing his opinion about the drug, however. Before Merlin could comprehend what was happening, his sluggish brain too exhausted to react, Sebastian had leapt forward. He pulled Merlin away from the tree, sliding behind the warlock and wrapping one arm around his chest to hold him still. He forced Merlin's head back on his shoulder with his other hand as Adrian approached. Too late did Merlin realise what they were planning to do.

"No! You can't!" But he had nothing to fight them with. The first dosage was still strong in his body, still restricting his access to his magic. Merlin kicked out feebly.

"Don't make me tie you up again," Sebastian growled threateningly, and Adrian once again emptied the contents of a small bottle down Merlin's throat. Sebastian immediately dropped him, and the warlock crouched forward, head and stomach reeling. After a few moments of deep breathing, Merlin managed to steady himself.

"Why?" The confusion and upset were more than obvious in his voice, but the two men traded somewhat satisfactory looks.

"If that hasn't stripped your magic, it would have pushed it deeper. The Dreafela won't be able to sense it anymore than Arthur can. And as for where to go, there is an abandoned castle only a few leagues from here. We can make it by morning if we go now."

Merlin didn't even bother to protest as Sebastian drew him to his feet. Adrian took the lead, walking slowly but steadily through the forest. For a while, Merlin contemplated moaning about their pace, believing that it was going to take weeks to catch up with Arthur if they carried on at this pace. But when he tried to speed up, the world lurched suddenly.

"We're suppressing your power, Merlin. We're suppressing _you. _Don't try and rush it." Merlin found the annoyance sparking through him at the calm way Sebastian had uttered the words. It was ironic, these men were a few of the ones that Merlin didn't have to hide around, and yet they had made sure that he still couldn't use his magic. Would he ever be free to truly show who he was, or would he always be forced to hide in one way or the other?

The trio walked on through the night, Merlin staying quiet. He had to find a way of getting away from them, had to stop them risking their own lives for his destiny. He knew that should he say anything, they would shout down his protests, believing in the prophecy more than they believed in their own lives. That scared Merlin. Arthur may be used to having men willing to die for him, but his servant was not, and it made him feel awful.

At the same time, he didn't actually know what he was supposed to do without them. Whether the Dreafela could sense that his magic was there or not, it wasn't like Merlin could use it. He was walking into what he knew was a trap with no way to defend himself and no real way of getting Arthur out, apart from run. He knew the prince was hurt, knew that Arthur needed help, and fast. Should he let them risk their lives just so that he could make sure that Arthur made it out? Was Arthur's life worth more than theirs? Merlin didn't want to be thinking like this, but he knew the answer. Arthur had a future ahead of him that would affect everyone, he _had _to live.

"Merlin?" Startled out of his musings by Sebastian's low voice, Merlin jumped as he looked around him. They had made it to the edge of the forest, and just in front of them, the ruins of an old castle loomed through the early morning light. Merlin shook his head.

"This can't be it. When I saw Arthur, the cell he was in was secure... this is a ruin..."

"Only what is on the top is a ruin." Adrian interrupted gently. He was looking graver than Merlin had seen him before, and the warlock didn't need to ask why. If they entered that building, the chances were that they weren't all coming out alive. And yet, whilst the two men still had a choice, they were preparing to die for Arthur. They were preparing to die for Merlin.

"Can you feel him?" Sebastian asked quietly. Merlin nearly shot him a scathing look, his tongue dripping with sarcasm about how that was supposed to be possible considering what they had done to his magic. But then he stopped and thought. His destiny with Arthur was something beyond his magic, he still had the bond with the royal. Shutting his eyes, Merlin took a deep breath, not really knowing what he was doing. He let his mind search out, and to his surprise, he could feel his prince. But something was wrong.

"He's there," Merlin said breathlessly, beginning to feel a true glimmer of hope for the first time since the Druids had knocked him out. Everything had been going so well up until that point. Maybe this was when fate decided to work in his favour once again? "But something is wrong. I can feel him, yet it's like something is keeping me from him. I don't think he is conscious, it's...I don't know what it is. You say this drug suppresses me because I am magic? It's like that with Arthur, he's there, but something is holding him back. I don't know how to explain...wait..."

As Merlin was talking, he felt something.

"He's stirring!" The warlock exclaimed excitedly. Little did he know that was precisely what Greg had been waiting for. The man knew that there was no chance that Merlin was going to simply walk up to him, so he made sure that he had a foolproof alarm. Arthur would remain oblivious and unconscious...until his warlock was in a certain distance to him. Then the prince would awaken, Greg would know, and with any luck, he would manage to get Merlin to reveal himself even as he was being destroyed, meaning that Arthur wouldn't even be able to remember his friend without the sting of betrayal. Despite the warlock's thoughts, Greg had no plans for Arthur. What they were going to do to Merlin would be painful enough for the young prince.

But unfortunately for Greg, he hadn't banked on Merlin not coming alone. Adrian and Sebastian shared a look at the excitement in Merlin's voice at feeling that Arthur was going to be okay. Sebastian dropped his eyes almost in shame as Adrian raised his eyebrows, a clear message being sent out.

Merlin, however, had no idea about the silent conversation that was going on around him until Sebastian once again grabbed his arms, pinning them behind him.

"What are you doing?" The warlock cried, instinctively reaching for his magic. He gave another cry, this time of frustration, when it slipped from his grasp once more. How could he be the warlock of prophecy if a simple drug -even if it had taken two dosages - rendered him helpless? "Stop it, what are you doing?"

"Sorry, Merlin," Sebastian muttered from behind him, and Merlin struggled even harder when he felt the now familiar burn of rope slide around his wrists, pinning him still. "We can't risk you."

"Arthur needs me!"

"And now you've confirmed where he is, we can get him out," Sebastian promised, drawing the now bound warlock back into the cover of the trees. Using his legs, he nudged Merlin's out from under him, lowering the struggling figure to the floor and using one hand to pin him down. "But you've done your part."

"No!" Merlin realised what they were going to do as Adrian approached, bending down beside him. "You can't! Don't do this! I can still help even if you've taken my magic, please!"

"Sorry. The future needs you. Whether the Dreafela knows you have magic or not isn't the question, Greg clearly has something against you personally. You have to live."

And with that, Adrian placed his hand on the warlock's forehead and muttered the same spell as before, sending Merlin down into the depths of an enchanted sleep. Making sure he couldn't be seen, the two traded uneasy glances. They were trying to protect the future, trying to make sure the prophecy could still happen. But by acting the way they had, they had potentially turned Merlin against them for good. How could he not hate them, they just stripped him from his magic, placed a spell on him and left him effectively unconscious under a tree.

"Let's go," Adrian muttered. He was needed back at the camp as quickly as possible, he was the only one with the strength to keep Horath under control. But first, they had to make sure the Once and Future King lived.

They didn't see the way Merlin's eyes were rolling under closed lids, the blue melting into gold. The warlock's magic was not made to be contained. He had already been fighting off the first drug, even if Merlin himself hadn't realised it. The second dosage and the spell meant his magic was going wild, lashing out.

His destiny was in danger, and Merlin wasn't about to let Druids get in his way.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you so much for the amazing support once again, it means the world. Wow, I really need to get writing again...**

Arthur had always known that returning to consciousness after anything was not the most pleasant of experiences. With both being a prince and a Knight, he had been knocked out more times than he cared to account for, and so the familiar sensation of slowly clawing your way back towards the light was one he had been expecting. However, this was something different. It wasn't him pulling his way back, but something else. The prince couldn't say what, but it was like there was something reacting, something making him stir. It was like a strange, prickling sensation, and the only rational thought that Arthur could think of was that it was being caused by whatever Greg had given him.

Even so, Arthur couldn't stop a small whimper escape him as the feeling died away again and he felt the blackness tug once more. He was hovering between waking up properly and staying unconscious, almost as if his body couldn't decide what it wanted to do.

"So he's close..." A voice muttered, and this time, Arthur fought with all he had to wake up properly. He would take being magically whipped over being unconscious any day. There was something so twisted about Greg and the Dreafela, Arthur didn't want to know what would happen to him if he stayed at their mercy without being able to fight back in the slightest, even if it was just with words. "But only borderline close. A few more steps and it would be activated properly."

Quite frankly, Arthur didn't have a clue what Greg was muttering about. But in a strange way, there was something in his mind that was relating to what the man was saying. Something was keeping him teetering on the edge between the darkness and alertness, not quite letting him wake up, but not dragging him under either. Maybe it wasn't a something, but some_one_? As soon as he thought that though, Arthur wanted to groan again. Considering the fact that Greg had been after Merlin for this entire time, Arthur could think of no one else that the man would be waiting for.

"I wonder what way he will come in..." Arthur almost jumped, the shock bringing with it another stage of alertness. Greg had moved. The man had to be right in front of him now. Judging by the slightly exasperated sigh that Arthur could hear, he had seen the prince's movement.

"You just can't let the drug do the work, can you, Sire? You have to fight against it yourself. Now how do I know how close he is?"

"Go to h'll..." Arthur managed to croak, inwardly feeling a small victory about the fact that he was overcoming whatever Greg had done to him. If the man wasn't planning on having him conscious, then Arthur was going to make damn sure that he was. He had to find some way of protecting his idiot of a servant. If nothing else, he could at least do Merlin the courtesy of being awake. How else was he going to mock his servant's rescue attempts when they got out of here? Even Arthur could see the irony in that, for it would mean that said attempts would have worked, but his mind was thick and heavy. Thinking straight was off the agenda for now.

"Oh my dear prince, I'm already in it." Arthur finally managed to force his eyes open. He was still exactly where he had been when he had lost consciousness, and full alertness instantly brought back the sharp and agonising pain down his back. But in a strange way, that also helped him focus. The pain cut through the fog in his mind, allowed him to fight back harder and make his mind start working again. Greg was standing just to the left of him, watching Arthur with such intensity that the prince found himself squirming. At least the Dreafela he could blame for being some kind of magical. Greg was just creepy.

"What did you do?" Arthur was glad to hear that his voice had already gained in strength. He hated feeling weak, especially in this kind of situation.

"I just wanted to know when your servant was approaching." Greg responded. His voice was so calm, so reasonable that Arthur couldn't help but wonder whether he had always been this crazy. He knew from Merlin the man had always treated others with disdain, and Arthur himself had witnessed it when he had watched the man beat his servant. But had he always been this far gone? That in itself was a worrying thing, precisely how many people in Camelot were leading double lives?

"But why isn't he getting any closer?" Greg was watching Arthur closely. The prince knew the ex-servant was sensing the struggle Arthur had to stay awake. It seemed that Merlin was only on the edge of being close enough in order to make the drug or whatever the hell it was react. Despite having spent the whole time wishing the young man would stay away, Arthur found himself involuntarily wanting Merlin to take another couple of steps. It would be so much easier to think of a way out if he wasn't battling consciousness at the same time.

"Maybe because you are a crazy person?" Arthur muttered. The prince knew that Merlin would have no idea about the Dreafela, how would he? But he did know what kind of person Greg was, Merlin had been on the receiving end more than once before he had finally told Arthur about it. Part of him wanted to goad Greg, wanted the disgraced man to know that Arthur was still fighting. And yet at the same time, there was a part of him that was screaming at him to simply shut up. He wasn't just dealing with Greg here, and Arthur had no idea what the Dreafela was truly capable of. All he knew was that he was still in agony from his last encounter with it. Goading the thing didn't seem to be the best idea.

But thankfully for now, the Dreafela was leaving Greg in charge. Arthur wondered if it meant anything, that he couldn't stay in control for long or something like that. Judging by the slightly maniacal look of delight on Greg's face that had appeared with the realisation that Merlin was getting closer, Arthur was more certain that it had just decided to let its host have some fun. And in a way, that scared Arthur more. He could deal with a magical threat, it was evil, end of story. But to deal with another human? That was something else entirely.

"Please, Sire, you do not want to upset me. The Dreafela is not something that should be taken lightly, as you will see in time."

"What are you?" Arthur spat back, his heart pounding uncomfortably hard. There was something so unnerving about Greg, something that made Arthur feel like he had stumbled across something way beyond his understanding. And somehow, his clumsy fool of a servant was right in the middle of it all. Once Merlin had unwittingly stumbled into Greg's trap and then Arthur had somehow found a way of getting them both out of here – he wasn't relying on Merlin's rescuing skills too much – the prince was adamant that he was going to get some answers. Greg wanting Merlin, he could understand. The lanky youth had humiliated him in front of the one person that Greg seemed to have once idolised and resulted in him being banished on pain of death from the only home he had ever known. But for the life of him, Arthur could not understand where the Dreafela fit into all of this. Did the magical being also want Merlin, or was that just coincidence?

Glancing once more at Greg, Arthur glared. The ex-servant could clearly see the prince trying to figure out the mystery that he was now in the middle of and had a mocking smile on his face. At seeing Arthur's glance, the smirk widened in satisfaction. This was what he had been waiting for . Greg had told Arthur enough to keep him guessing, but not enough to stop him from coming up with wild theories of his own. The possessed man was certainly looking forward to seeing how close to the truth Arthur was going to get. It would become quite apparent what the future King's servant had been hiding when the Dreafela had its way and literally tore the magic out of the boy. But until then, Greg had no plans to enlighten the young royal any time soon.

"Something older than you will ever know, and greater than you would ever appreciate." Arthur shuddered. In just that split second, the creature had risen once more, letting Greg's eyes change colour. Arthur couldn't help but notice the way the temperature in the room dropped, his breath suddenly steaming in front of him. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the figure in front of him, just out of kicking distance. Arthur didn't even notice that he longer had to fight against the drug. "You mortals have no idea the meaning of true power."

"Is that what you told Greg?" Arthur tugged fruitlessly on the chains binding him, a strange mixture of fear and anger making him lash out. Never mind Merlin walking into the trap, Arthur knew that he had to get out of here. This thing was possibly more dangerous than anything that he had ever faced before. Arthur didn't want to admit that he was missing the comforting presence of Merlin's babble. The man had a way of spouting ideally timed wisdom, yet being a complete idiot at the same time, a talent Arthur had never quite figured out how he did it. But right now, he would do anything to have that by his side; Merlin's never ending optimism reassuring him that everything would work out alright in the end. "Is that what you said before you took over him and used him as a mere puppet?"

"Oh little prince," the Dreafela mocked, reaching out a hand and running it down the side of Arthur's face, either not feeling or choosing to ignore the way the man flinched away violently. "This human welcomed it in. The perfect candidate; so full of hatred and the desire for revenge. I haven't felt it that strongly for a while, everyone else I've come across lately have been pitiful and weak. His body will be destroyed by what is coming, but... that is of no consequence."

The Dreafela smirked coldly, tilting his head slightly to one side as he looked at Arthur. The prince shifted uncomfortably, not liking the way he could almost see the thing planning something.

"Maybe I have another host in mind?" It eventually said quietly. Trying to hide the shivers shooting down his spine, Arthur glared again, trying to look slightly more in control of his emotions than he was feeling.

"I won't let you hurt Merlin." Arthur stated boldly, wondering if that was what he had been missing for all of this time. To his surprise, Greg laughed coldly.

"You have no say in it, little prince. True, he does have something that I greatly desire, but by the time I have taken what should rightfully be mine, there won't be enough of his body for me to use. No, there is another candidate in mind..." And with that, Greg's eyes faded back to their normal colour and he blinked a few times as if to ground himself. Arthur found that he was watching closely, searching for any sign of weakness, something that he could use to fight the thing. To his dismay, even with wracking his mind intently, Arthur realised that the Dreafela had given nothing away. All that Arthur knew was that they were after Merlin, most likely to kill him. What on earth his servant could have that the Dreafela wanted, Arthur had no idea. But this was Merlin; he seemed to be an even worse magnet for trouble than his master. Which - in Arthur's mind at least - was saying something.

Greg sighed. "I told you not to try and upset me, Sire. The Dreafela is not a patient species, and to be honest, I don't blame him. Now, why hasn't Merlin turned up yet?"

"Are you seriously asking me to work out what is going through that idiot's head?"

"Well," Greg reached forward and grabbed Arthur's chin. Despite twisting his head, Arthur couldn't get out of the grip. It did make him wonder how much of the Dreafela's actions were inspired by Greg considering what he had done before with running the finger down Arthur's cheek. "He is your other half."

"You're even more stupid than him." Arthur didn't miss a beat when it came to responding, but once again, his mind was whirling. What on earth was that supposed to mean?

"We shall see." Greg responded silkily, and maintaining his grip on Arthur's chin, his eyes once again changed. Arthur had just decided that he was getting fed up with this constant personality change when he felt it. Pain like he had never felt before raced through his body, especially across the wounds on his back.

Barely clinging onto consciousness and amongst the whirl of thoughts that had become his mind, Arthur knew that this was the same as the whipping before. It was a message to Merlin.

But deep down, Arthur found that he was thinking the same as Greg. Why hadn't Merlin come yet? He knew the fool was on his way, and knowing Merlin as he did, knew that he wouldn't give up until he had found his master. So why wasn't he here yet? Arthur's last thought before his mind stopped working rationally was a silent prayer that nothing had happened to the boy.

MMM

"Should we be doing this?" Sebastian whispered, following Adrian's lead as the Druid picked his way through the rubble. His old friend cast a glance over his shoulder.

"Would you prefer we left the prince in there then?"

"Not _that,__"_ Sebastian protested. "I know we should be doing that, the future rests on it. I meant Merlin. Should we have left him there like that? He's so vulnerable without his magic. I've watched him over the years, Adrian. Before I knew who he was, he was always just Arthur's clumsy servant, the one that somehow gets away with back chatting his master and getting into as much danger as the prince himself. But it's not an act – when he's not using his magic, he can't defend himself."

Adrian stopped, turning so that he was facing his friend. He too knew that it was potentially dangerous leaving Merlin how they did. But he could see in the boy's eyes the sheer desperation to save Arthur. There was something about their bond, something that gave him hope for the future. It wasn't only the Dreafela or Horath that he had been trying to shield the young warlock from. He may not know the boy, but he understood what drove him. That brotherhood, that feeling of having someone that you would die for is one the Druid is all too familiar with. It was why he would never be able to just leave Sebastian in Camelot should he ever be found out. Adrian would walk right up to the gates himself if it meant saving his friend.

It was those same feelings that were driving Merlin; he could see it in his eyes. But he had already learnt enough about the young warlock. He would risk everything for Arthur, even the chance of revealing himself and turning the prince against him, and possibly magic, forever. The time was not right, Adrian knew that. And despite all the threats of the Dreafela and even Horath, it was himself that Adrian was saving Merlin from. A shattered bond was a deadly thing indeed.

"He'll be fine," Adrian finally responded, sounding almost dismissive as he turned back to the ruin they were rapidly gaining on. He knew that they still had to find their way inside, but for now, he had to make sure Sebastian was with him on this. Hearing the noble sigh behind him, the Druid stopped, turning to face his old friend.

"If it were me, what would you do? If I had gone missing, would you risk absolutely everything to come and find me again?"

"You know I would."

"It's the same with these two, I can sense it in the air. He could feel Arthur even with his magic suppressed, the prophecies are true, Seb. The prince and his warlock will create Albion, and then creatures such as the Dreafela will be banished forever, nothing will be able to stand a chance. But Merlin is letting friendship cloud his mind. He wants Arthur safe, no matter what the price."

"Then let's save ourselves a prince." Sebastian grinned at his friend. Despite the severity of the situation, it made him feel like a boy again, the two of them disappearing off into the forest to get up to mischief. Only this time, there was a much higher price to pay.

MMM

Pain. Sheer agony racing through him. That was not only the first thing that Merlin felt, but the only thing. With a gasp, his eyes flew open, and he could feel the power burning behind them as his magic continued on its wild outburst of throwing off all the methods that had been attempted to restrain him. He felt the ropes snap from around his wrists and once again tentatively brought his hands in front of him, rubbing them absentmindedly as he waited for the magic to die away again. He knew better than to try and reel it himself, and considering how long it had felt like since he had last been able to use it, he wasn't sure he wanted to. He felt so alive, so vibrant at having it lash out like this. Merlin knew it was dangerous, that his magic was more powerful than most so he had to be careful. But as it fought off the remainder of Adrian's sleeping spell, he embraced the feeling of wholeness it gave him.

But even when the magic did finally begin to calm, the swirling leaves settling once more, Merlin frowned. He had thought that the pain had come from the internal battle his body had been going through, the magic battling against the drug. But even as his mind cleared, Merlin winced, still feeling the pain. But he couldn't place where it was coming from. It was like he was hurting, but he couldn't say which part of his body it was. It was only when he glanced up again, only just making out the highest part of the ruin that he realised what he was feeling. It wasn't his pain, it was Arthur's.

"I'm coming, Sire." He muttered, wearily pulling himself to his feet. Why did it suddenly seem to be so far away? Determinedly planting one foot in front of the other, Merlin sighed as he tried to gain on the ruin. Things would have been so much easier if they had never stumbled across the Druids. He understood why they had acted as they did, and the thought of Horath was once again making shudders run down his spine. But it had cost Arthur. Merlin was no fool – despite what his master believed. He knew precisely why Greg – or the Dreafela as he now knew it might be – was making Arthur pay now. He was late, he had failed with the three days that Greg had given him. No doubt that this was some last minute thing to try and ensure that he would turn up.

And turn up he would. Merlin was not about to leave Arthur there, and he just hoped the prince knew he was coming. Not that he had ever really been in situations like this, but Merlin was sure it was easier to stay strong when you knew that help was in the way rather than thinking that you had been forgotten about. The Knights of Camelot had no doubt been dispatched by now, but Merlin wasn't sure whether they would be any use. They didn't know where to start looking and didn't have the call of destiny leading them in the right direction.

Whether the pain was easing off or whether Merlin was just getting used to it, the warlock wasn't sure. But he did know that he was able to think more clearly the closer he got. His vision had been deceiving him, the ruin wasn't as far away as it had initially looked. But Merlin knew that could easily mean that Adrian and Sebastian had already made it in. It could mean that they had already rescued Arthur and Merlin would have to apologise for doubting them. Or it could mean they were already dead...

Merlin shook his head furiously. He was not going to let them get hurt. No matter how they had treated him, they had meant well in the long run. These were the first people that Merlin had met that believed in the prophecy so strongly that they were prepared to die for Arthur. They were prepared to die for Merlin.

The warlock was wracking his brains furiously for ways to make sure that that didn't happen when his foot suddenly caught on a stone. Unlike the pebbles he had been stumbling over up until now, this was a full size rock. He had made it to the edge of the ruins.

Swallowing hard, Merlin glanced up. He hadn't quite appreciated the scale of the place. This must have been a full size castle in its day, and now he had to pick his way through it. He was refusing to think about the fact that he then had no idea where to go once he reached the centre.

"One thing at a time," the warlock mumbled to himself. Eyes fixed firmly on the ground in front of him, he began the task of trying to scramble his way forward. If he was honest, Merlin thought that he made quite good progress. He had made it halfway across when he suddenly froze, convinced that he had heard something. Balanced precariously on top of the largest rock he had seen yet, Merlin tensed, waiting and just listening. Just as he was convinced that he must have been hearing things, the noise came again.

It sounded like a bang, but as Merlin listened intently, he was sure he heard a yell afterwards. Feeling guilty at the rush of relief at knowing that wasn't Arthur's voice, Merlin picked up his speed, scrambling more recklessly over the ruins. He slipped more and more, knees and hands bleeding slightly by the time that he reached the centre. Standing still, Merlin let his eyes roam. There had to be a way in, there had to be...

There! Just across what appeared to be a courtyard, there was a small doorway in the stone. More like a hatch, but Merlin was already racing across to it. Where else would he go, apart from down? He knew that Arthur had been underground, and before he even reached the door, there was a burst of light from inside. Someone was battling with magic, and Merlin knew he had to hurry. If they were convinced that even he didn't stand a chance against the Drefela with the powers he had, what chance did Adrian and Sebastian have, even combined?

Dropping lightly through the hatch, Merlin followed the noise. The corridor was twisting, the only thing he could see regarding what he was about to walk in on was the flashes of light that sporadically lit up the stone walls. He was so sure that all he had to do was round the next corner and he would find them.

But Merlin never got the chance to take another step. Something snagged the back of his collar and the warlock was slammed backwards, all the breath driven out of him. For a split second, Merlin just blinked, trying to rid his vision of stars before he realised why it was taking longer than it should. There was something gripping around his throat, and his distraction at hitting the wall meant that he was already gasping for breath.

His hand rose, feebly tugging at the one closed around his throat.

"Don't struggle," a voice said softly, almost kindly. "It won't hurt. Or you can go in there and let the Dreafela tear it from you slowly. I'll look after you, I promise."

Horath. Merlin cursed himself for not realising that he was being followed, and tightened his grip over Horath's wrist, reaching for his magic.

"That's it. Bring it to the surface, let me have it, boy."

"S..Stop!" Merlin gasped, squirming in the grip to try and free himself. He wasn't sure whether using magic would be giving Horath what he wanted or not, but he was getting to the point where he had very little choice in the matter. Breathing was getting harder and harder, and unless he did _something_ he was as good as dead anyway.

"Give it to me..."

"No, leave me alone!"

"Just give it up."

"Never!" Merlin kicked out and managed to catch Horath in the stomach. The man growled in anger, his eyes alight with a maniacal gleam. He threw Merlin away from the wall, causing the warlock to land heavily as he crashed into the ground, his already bleeding hands taking the brunt of his fall.

Merlin only just had time to roll over, intending to get back to his feet when his eyes widened in shock. His mind went completely blank in panic and Merlin could only gape as a gleaming knife came slashing down towards him.

There was no time to do anything, he couldn't think straight... The warlock felt his breath catch in his throat as he watched the light from the fight around the corner flash on the blade and he knew that this time, he had let Arthur down. It was too close now, he had no chance to move...


	11. Chapter 11

**Wow, so did not expect to get this done in time for today. Thank you so much for the lovely reviews! And Happy Christmas to one and all!**

Arthur seriously hadn't known what had hit him that time. He couldn't even escape to the sanctuary of unconsciousness, instead feeling every single thing that Greg was doing. Considering he could feel the magic involved, he knew that there must be at least some aspect of the Dreafela still involved in the process, or Greg wouldn't have been able to act like that. All he knew was that time ceased to exist, letting him feel like the pain was stretching on for an eternity even though it couldn't have been more than a few moments in the long run.

And then, just as suddenly as it had came, it stopped again. There was the sound of quiet footsteps, yet Arthur didn't open his eyes, refusing to think about the fact that he wasn't aware he had even closed them. He had managed to not make a sound throughout the whole thing, and if keeping his eyes shut was the only way he could still defy Greg, then so be it. He was not about to let the ex-servant have the satisfaction of seeing his pain-filled gaze.

Besides, by keeping his eyes shut, Arthur found that it allowed him to increase his hearing. It wasn't just Greg he could hear moving about, of that he was sure. There were at least two more sets of footsteps. One moved with a quiet confidence – a sign whoever it was knew – or at least, had an idea – of what they were about to walk in on, but were coming nevertheless. The other was an almost silent tread, someone who was used to masking their presence. But what presence was that? Did Greg have accomplices' in his scheme? Arthur's mind immediately went back to the three servants who had attacked both him and Merlin, but he was sure that wouldn't be the case. They had all been left restrained or unconscious, and Merlin surely would have raised the alarm. There was no way they would simply be allowed to wonder out of Camelot without being stopped.

So who was it? Arthur was almost certain they couldn't be with Greg. Why wait until now if they were? Surely anyone else involved would have been revealed when Arthur had practically escaped rather than when he was in chains and trying not to show his pain? Drawing himself into a more upright position, Arthur gritted his teeth and inwardly moaned as he wrapped his hands around the chains in order to force himself into a standing position. Whoever it was that was about to come through that door, Arthur was going to make sure they weren't faced with him looking weak. Whilst he wouldn't admit it out loud, he needed help getting out of here. This may be his only chance.

"Don't get your hopes up," a voice whispered almost regretfully in his ear, and Arthur turned his head slightly to find Greg standing next to him, looking at the door with an almost sorrowful expression. "My master wants Merlin, and you seem to be the only way we have any chance of getting close enough."

Arthur blinked. What the hell? So it wasn't just Greg who was after the servant, but the Dreafela as well? In a way he couldn't explain, the prince felt a sudden surge of irrational fear. What on earth could they possibly want with Merlin?

"Besides," Greg continued, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the slight warning growl that sounded in the back of Arthur's throat after his announcement that they were after Merlin, "I can get some of what the Dreafela is feeling. I'm not good enough for him anymore. Once he has what he wants, he needs a stronger body..."

All self-restraint vanished in an instant as Greg stretched out a hand, catching Arthur's chin and tilting the royal's head towards him, frowning quizzically as if either trying to give Arthur a hint, or was simply examining him. Arthur got the hint.

"No way!" He pulled his head back violently, the chains rattling. For the first time in hours, Arthur was trying to get himself out of there. He didn't care what Greg thought of him for struggling so frantically, he didn't even care that it was driving the chains into his wrists more. There was no way Arthur was about to give in to what Greg and the Dreafela had planned. He would die before he became a puppet in their game.

"Arthur?" The prince froze at the voice. He had never once thought of the confident footsteps as being something he recognised. But as soon as he heard the voice, he cursed himself for not realising sooner. There were only a few people who walked like that, as if they had no worries or fears about what they were doing. The Knights.

Arthur squinted to where the door was. Greg clearly either hadn't been expecting company or – the more likely, Arthur couldn't help but think – was making sure that nothing got in the way for the cell door was wide open. Considering Arthur was shackled to the wall and Greg had been with him the whole time the door was open, it wasn't as if the prince would have been able to even try and escape. Even as Arthur strained in order to try and see into the darkened corridor beyond, Greg moved.

Arthur jerked away suddenly with a yell as he felt something cold being placed against his neck. Greg had moved, standing closer to Arthur than the royal was happy with, especially as he now had a knife at Arthur's throat.

"Merlin has come." Arthur couldn't help but smirk. Greg, for all his claims about wanting the servant, didn't know Merlin at all. He hadn't even realised that wasn't Merlin's voice. For his part, Arthur was not going to enlighten him. If Greg believed that a bumbling servant was about to walk through the door, he would be nowhere near as tense than if he knew it was a Knight of Camelot. Although what on earth Lord Sebastian was doing here, Arthur had no idea. His father was a shrewd man, one who always made Arthur feel as if he was nothing more than a child, something his own father was no longer able to do to that same extent. But Arthur was neutral on his son. The man was a knight, he couldn't afford to dislike him for no reason other than a suspicion. But Sebastian always had a strange look on his face when he was around Arthur, and the prince could not place it.

"Keep telling yourself that. You haven't won." His words just caused the dagger to press in closer, but Arthur smirked, back in control of the situation. Greg had given something away when he had revealed the Dreafela's plan to use Arthur's body. The young prince knew that Greg had no intention of killing him, and the dagger was just for show to stop Merlin doing...whatever it was they thought Merlin would do. But knowing that it was someone who could actually defend themselves about to walk through the door, Arthur lifted his foot.

Wincing as it caused more of his weight to hang from his wrists, the prince wasted no time in flicking it out to the side, driving it somewhat feebly into Greg's own leg. It had no power behind it at all, and even as he allowed it to hit the floor again, Arthur was breathing heavily at the strain on his back. But it had had the desired effect as Greg stumbled to one side. It may have been weak, but the ex-servant clearly hadn't been expecting it.

Before Arthur could even think of what was going to happen next, Sebastian came running into the room, sword drawn and eyes alert for danger.

"Sire!" Greg had regained his balance as the knight moved further into the room and seemed to realise that something in his plan had gone wrong.

"He thought he could cross me by telling someone? This will be his downfall!"

"I thought you were planning his downfall anyway?" Sebastian glared at Greg coolly, but Arthur was feeling his mind race. The noble hadn't even blinked before responding, hadn't asked who it was Greg was referring too. In that one moment, Arthur knew the man knew what was going on, possible more than Arthur himself did.

"Where is he?" Greg yelled, fury evident in his features. Arthur flinched, unable to stop himself, as Greg seized a fistful of hair and yanked his head back, replacing the dagger once again and digging it in, far too much for Arthur to be happy about.

"Safe." Another voice cut in, and through his now somewhat limited vision, Arthur saw another man step into the room. A man, he couldn't help but note, was bearing the Druid tattoos. The prince tensed in anger slightly, especially when he saw Sebastian exchange a meaningful look with the man. Arthur didn't need to ask, it was the same look he and Merlin often gave each other. Not that the prince would admit it out loud, but it was a look of friendship.

This time, Arthur actually felt the change take over Greg. Maybe it was because he was in such close proximity to the man, possibly even because he was in contact with him. But he felt the sudden coldness, the way Greg tensed for a moment. But when he relaxed, it was far more laid back than the man had been. The Dreafela seemed to feel like he was untouchable if his grip on Arthur was anything to go by, and judging by the sharp intake of breath from the Druid, he knew that the eyes had changed colour.

"Get out of here!" Arthur hissed. The Dreafela wanted him, meaning that he was possibly the safest person in the room at the given time. Sebastian gave him an almost sorrowful look.

"Sorry, Sire. This time I cannot obey you. Please, don't judge us too harshly." Whilst Arthur's mind was reeling at what on earth the man could mean, Sebastian and the Druid split up. They circled to different ends of the room, eyes locked on the restrained prince and his captor. Arthur growled furiously, shaking himself to try and get out of either the grip or the chains. He knew it wouldn't work, nothing he had done so far had made much difference. But no longer was he just going to stand here and let events unfold without his say so.

Apart from an ominous rattle as the shackles cut into his wrists, Arthur barely even moved, the Dreafela tightening his grip and pulling his head back, causing the prince to gasp. Through watering eyes, he could see that both Sebastian and the Druid had swords drawn, but were holding them loosely at their sides. Something unspoken seemed to shoot between them, a clear message or plan of some sort.

Never would the prince of Camelot admit anything out loud as to what went through his head at that moment. A Knight that he had never really trusted, sure the man was hiding something, and a Druid, someone he had been taught to hate and fear. And yet, in that split second as they looked away from each other and back towards the prince, Arthur found himself desperately hoping that they had a way of getting him out of this. He had had enough of being chained up, used as bait for a servant that hadn't yet even turned up. Not to mention that his back hurt and he was, quite frankly, freaked out by the whole scenario.

"I can sense you," the Dreafela almost purred, keeping the dagger pressed firmly against Arthur's throat. His other hand, however, relaxed, and to Arthur's horror, he began stroking the prince's hair. It was only the dagger that stopped him wrenching his head away furiously. "One more powerful than the other, but both with enough to be considered strong. Tell me, do you think you have the strength to match me?"

"We can try," the Druid spat, and despite himself, Arthur grinned slightly. That man wasn't going down without a fight.

"Adrian," Sebastian said warningly, his eyes locked on the Dreafela, the same defiance in his expression as in his friend's. Arthur couldn't help but wonder what it was they were truly fighting for here. Why would a Druid risk everything to come and help a prince that, in any other circumstances, would have seen him executed? This whole thing had been a riddle ever since the three servants had attacked Merlin in the corridor, and Arthur hated feeling like he was the only one that didn't understand what was going on.

Before the Dreafela could speak again, Adrian gasped. Whatever it was clearly wasn't expected, for Sebastian turned to look at him in surprise.

"Horath." Adrian said, rather randomly to Arthur's mind. "I can feel his presence, he's here."

"But would he be here? He wouldn't be after either of us, and knows not to take on...no. He can't be!"

"He's strong, he would have reacted against what we did."

"Get to him, Adrian. The prophecy cannot be destroyed!" Adrian nodded once and sprinted from the room, leaving Sebastian looking worried as he turned back to face the pair by the wall. Arthur was now more confused than ever, but the Dreafela was leering unpleasantly, seeming to – once again – know something the prince did not.

"So you choose to go against me alone, boy? What would your father say?" Arthur knew goading when he heard it, but this time, was confused. Why would Lord Banton have a problem with his son coming to rescue the prince?

"Such a deep betrayal, it would wound him so deeply. But you don't care, do you, boy? Oh, I can see into your soul, you don't care what you would do to your own father because you don't see him as family? The little prince here has been so blind..."

"Get off me!" Arthur spat, pulling his head away from the Dreafela's hand. In a way he hadn't for years, Arthur felt the overwhelming urge to simply burst into tears. He still had no idea what was going on, with anyone. Let alone place what any of this had to do with Merlin. Sebastian looked at him sadly, almost as if he knew what was going through Arthur's head. In all honesty, the noble was wondering how much more of this the young Pendragon could take. The Dreafela had been talking in riddles that would make no sense to someone that didn't already know the truth about everyone. Without knowing about the magic, Arthur would have no idea what this was about, even nearly four days after his capture.

"That's enough." Arthur blinked at how forceful Sebastian was suddenly sounding. "You should have known that people would come for him. People who would do anything to protect him, protect them both. You picked the wrong people to mess with."

"Because of the prophecy?" The Dreafela's voice was silky smooth, and despite not knowing what Sebastian had just tried to threaten him with, Arthur knew in an instant that it hadn't worked. Sebastian, however, shook his head.

"Because people care." He said simply, and raised his hand. But to Arthur's bemusement, it wasn't his sword hand, but the other. A word was barked, Sebastian's voice deepening and becoming dark and powerful, and then Arthur was sure his eyes were playing tricks on him. He could have sworn a beam of light shot from Sebastian's hand, but that would mean...

_Don't judge us too harshly._

Sebastian's previous words were ringing in his ears and Arthur stared in shock.

"No..." He had magic. _He, _a supposedly trusted knight of Camelot, had magic. It made sense, especially as he had walked in here with a Druid, but Arthur found that his breath caught in his throat slightly and he stared at Sebastian, trying to keep calm.

"Oh, but the best is still yet to come," the Dreafela whispered in his ear, before finally letting go and moving back. Another word was barked and Sebastian was thrown off his feet. The Dreafela hadn't even flinched at Sebastian's spell, yet the knight was thrown across the wall. But rather than sinking down it to the floor, he remained suspended, pinned to the wall. Arthur could see him struggling, but it was obvious that he was not nearly strong enough to go against the Dreafela.

Greg was moved into the centre of the room. Both Arthur and Sebastian could only watch as he stood there, arms outstretched and chanting in a dark and deep voice. A swirling mist seemed to appear, slowly taking shape and becoming more solid. Arthur could only watch as some sort of altar was formed out of the air, looking more real than he was happy with. As soon as it was formed, the Dreafela's eyes flicked to Sebastian, and before Arthur could blink, the noble was slammed down onto it, thick leather straps securing him at the wrists, ankles and around his waist.

"Leave him alone!" Arthur wasn't even thinking about it, not contemplating that he was trying to defend a sorcerer. The Dreafela was mad, and considering the way Sebastian was struggling fruitlessly, powerful as well. No one deserved to suffer at his hands. Arthur was hurting badly enough from what had been done to him, and no matter who Sebastian truly was, Arthur was not about to allow one of his knights to be hurt on his watch.

To his discomfort, the Dreafela turned, smirking coldly.

"Maybe I will. In this body anyway. Are you ready to embrace your new destiny, little prince?" And with that, the Dreafela started walking towards Arthur. With every step he took, Arthur found that he was almost paralysed, not about to even flinch as the crazed thing approached him.

"If you dare so much as lay a finger..."

"Oh silence, prince." As the Dreafela raised his hand, Arthur fell silent. Not through any choice, but simply because his voice had just vanished. He opened his mouth a few times, desperate, but no sound escaped him.

"You can't do this!" Sebastian was yelling, struggling violently, but Arthur could do nothing. He was frozen in place, unable to make so much as a sound.

As the Dreafela got closer, Arthur felt a single tear roll down his cheek. This was it, they had lost.

MMMM

Merlin seemed frozen as he stared at the falling knife, his mind unable to make a rational thought. Somehow, self-preservation kicked back in at the last minute and he rolled to one side, flinching as the knife crashed into the stone work directly where he had been laying.

"Give it to me!" Horath was slowly losing control, looking more and more crazed by the moment as he advanced on the frantically backing away Merlin. "Your magic belongs to me."

"No, it doesn't!" Merlin shouted, trying to keep his voice steady. He hated this. He had no idea how Horath drained the magic from his victims, so didn't know if using it against him would be giving in and allowing him to take what he wanted, something that Merlin was not about to let happen. He still had to fight the Dreafela – something else, he couldn't help but ironically note, wanted him for his magic – and free Arthur. Both Adrian and Sebastian had been in here for a while now, and Merlin was more than worried for them. He couldn't hold it against them what they had done, he knew they were just trying to protect him. But how many people would have to die before Arthur became who he was destinied to be?

"You don't want it. Let that burden go, young one, let someone else have to spend their life in hiding. You would be free." Horath's voice had changed again, making him sound calm and in control. It was only now that Merlin appreciated how dangerous the man was. If it wasn't for Adrian's warning, the chances are he would have been taken in by the man's smooth talking.

"No..." Merlin moaned, still backing away but shaking his head furiously. He had tears in his eyes, simply at the frustration of the whole situation. He didn't want to have to hurt anyone, but things were getting desperate. He didn't know how much time Arthur had left. Something was wrong with the prince, he was certain of it.

"No, you can't have it..." Merlin's back hit the wall, and with Horath advancing, he suddenly realised in dread that he was trapped. Horath's face split into a crazed grin, and he slowly crouched down in front of Merlin. The warlock almost went crossed eyes as he tried to keep the dagger in sight as the point came to rest at the base of his throat.

"Horath!" The yell made the man jump, and lashing out with his foot, Merlin sent the Druid stumbling back. As a result of his precarious position beforehand, Horath hit the floor, and Merlin wasted no time in kicking the dagger out of his hand before turning around. Adrian was approaching, his hand outstretched and his eyes ablaze, both with fury and the magic he was clearly allowing to build up in order to keep Merlin safe.

"Please, leave me alone..." Merlin whispered, fingers scrabbling against the cold stones as he pulled himself upright. He didn't have time to deal with Adrian trying to stop him again. With his magic once more awake, it was obvious that he would fight Adrian every step of the way, and considering who he was, would most likely win as well.

"I can't." Adrian responded bluntly, lowering his hand but keeping a close eye on Horath. Merlin made to protest when the Druid continued. "We've found them. Seb is trying to free Arthur now, but Merlin, I've never felt someone so strong. We simply don't have a chance. You are our only hope now."

"What about Arthur? Is he hurt, is he okay?"

"He seems to be." Considering Merlin had been witness to some of the things that Arthur had been put through, he knew that saying the prince was fine would be a lie. But if he at least seemed okay, then that was all Merlin could ask for at the moment.

"I have to get in there, Sebastian won't stand a ...omph!" The breath was driven out of Merlin as Horath suddenly sprang to his feet, shoving violently at the young man. Merlin fell backwards, hitting the stone wall and causing his breath to catch in his throat as his chest constricted.

"Horath..." Adrian began warningly, his hand raising again. But this time, Horath was too quick for him and barked out his own spell. With a golden flash, Merlin managed to shield the Druid against most of it, but he wasn't quick enough and the man was still thrown to the floor. Just about registering Horath running off in the direction Adrian had arrived from, Merlin stumbled across to the Druid.

"Are you alright?"

"I...I think so," Adrian muttered, pushing himself upright and touching a hand to his head gingerly, wincing as he did so. "You just saved my life. Thank you."

"Now let's see if we can save Arthur's and Sebastian's." Merlin muttered, offering a hand down to the man who had once held him prisoner. Adrian took it gratefully, and for a moment, the two of them just clasped forearms.

"Let's go save our friends." Adrian eventually said softly, and Merlin nodded with a dry smile. This had stopped being about destiny quite some time ago.

Setting off, they sprinted down the corridor, Merlin stumbling a few times as his magic still worked to completely free him from the drug that had been forced upon him. He saw Adrian wince apologetically each time he did, but nothing was said. They didn't have time for that now.

There was a sound from up above them, and both men picked up their pace. Merlin could see a light ahead, and felt a burst of adrenaline race through him. He had found Arthur!

But before he could reach the door, Adrian suddenly grabbed his wrist, spinning him behind the Druid and forcing Merlin to let Adrian go in first. The warlock made to protest, but he was already too late, Adrian had gone in.

Merlin made it into the doorway when he froze. Adrian had immediately raced over to an altar, screaming Sebastian's name when he caught sight of who was restrained upon it. For a moment, Merlin thought they were too late until he heard Sebastian's faint laugh of relief at seeing his friend was okay, regardless of his own position. Horath had made it past the altar and was approaching two figures.

Merlin recognised Arthur immediately, even if the prince was pale and looking more than dishevelled. But even then, for a split second, Merlin wondered precisely what had been done to his friend. Arthur wasn't moving, yet was still clearly conscious. Even from across the room, Merlin could see the tear glistening on the prince's cheek and felt a surge of overwhelming fury towards not only the Dreafela, but Greg as well. If it wasn't the servant the creature had been possessing, this might, for once, not be happening to them.

He could only see the back of Greg's head, but even that was enough for him to take a threatening step forward. He was the reason they had gone through all of this, he was the reason that Arthur was hurt. Never had Merlin felt more powerful than he did at the moment, never before had he _wanted_ to feel that powerful. He took an angry step forward, and suddenly froze again in sheer horror.

He could feel magic stirring in the room, some sort of transfer of energy. Then he looked again at Greg and realised the man's hand was stretching out towards Arthur, who couldn't so much as flinch away.

"No!" The scream ripped from him and Merlin found his hand raising, consequences be damned, even as Greg finally touched Arthur. But before he could utter a spell to try and save Arthur, something happened he was not expecting. Horath might not have been on the Druid's side any more, but he wasn't on the Dreafela's side either. Even as Greg touched Arthur, Horath threw himself at the ex-servant.

For all of the Dreafela's powers, he no more saw it coming than Merlin did, and was immediately bowled over. But it was too late, the energy had been released.

Merlin made to move further into the room when the sheer force of the magic hit him. He was blasted off his feet, thrown backwards out of the doorway even as it crumbled around him. It was only thanks to a choked out shield that stopped him from being crushed by the falling debris.

When the dust had settled again, Merlin coughed harshly, eyes streaming as he stared at the blocked doorway. He could clear it no problem, but Merlin wasn't sure he wanted to know what was waiting on the other side.

The Dreafela had been released from Greg, Merlin knew that much. There could be no denying the magic in the air, he knew a transfer had taken place. What he wasn't sure about, was who Greg was in contact with the instant it happened.

Horath...or Arthur?


	12. Chapter 12

**Hope that everyone had a lovely Christmas and Happy New Year! Thanks for the reviews!**

Merlin stared in horror at the pile of rubble in front of him. Without thinking what he was doing, he had leapt to his feet, hands scrabbling at the rocks, desperately trying to shift them.

"Arthur! Arthur! Seb? Adrian? Anyone?" Whether the rocks were muffling his voice, or even the replies, Merlin had no idea. But his heart was pounding hard as silence continued to lurk eerily. The only thing Merlin could hear was the small clatter of a few pebbles rolling down the rock pile as the dust finally began to settle. He forced himself to think rationally. No one had been near the entrance when the rocks had come down. But whatever had happened had had enough force to blast him backwards and start the rock slide in the first place, who knew what those closer would be like?

Despite being determined to think rationally, Merlin still physically tried to shift the rocks. No matter who the Dreafela had gone into then, the rest of the group were still stuck in there. Merlin knew Adrian had a point, he was the only one who had the slightest chance of getting close to the thing. But Merlin was worried. He could still feel the Dreafela's magic in the air, and it was beyond anything he had ever experienced. Not only was it strong, it was different. It was dark and suffocating, and rather than automatically trying to react to the magical presence, Merlin found his own magic was almost trying to shied away, as if knowing the danger that was potentially awaiting it.

But Merlin had another problem. What if the thing had entered Arthur? Could he really bring himself to fight against his friend? Could he, if it came to it, destroy Arthur to save them all? Shaking his head furiously, Merlin didn't let himself think about it. At the end of the day, he would do what he always did when it came to the prince. He would protect the Future King, no matter what course of action that forced him to take.

Balanced halfway up the rock pile, Merlin stared at the stone in dismay for a moment, feeling the sting in a finger where he had grazed it trying to pull one free.

"You idiot," he muttered to himself, climbing back down again and backing away. The time for being careful was over, he had no choice. Merlin waited until he thought that he was at least a safe distance down the corridor before letting his magic rise to the surface again. He was too desperate to think of a spell, and instead just let his eyes flash. But rather than simply blasting the rocks away, Merlin made sure that he dragged them down the corridor. He had no idea whether the men the other side were still in the positions he had last seen them. The last thing he wanted was for them to be trying to clear it from the other side and Merlin to blast the rocks their way.

Once again, he was forced to wait until the dust had cleared and his eyes stopped streaming before he could take a tentative step forward. With a thudding heart and blood ringing in his ears, Merlin almost crept down the corridor, forcing his magic to listen to him rather than letting it react instinctively like he so often did. Were all the warnings about this creature true? He had been hoping that his magic would just know what to do! When it came to saving Arthur, Merlin had found himself doing things he didn't even know were possibly for even him as it fought to protect both destiny and Albion. But this time, Merlin had a horrible feeling that he was going to have to fight it himself.

There was a deadly silence in the chamber where Arthur had been held. Merlin silently stepped in, eyes darting everywhere. No one was moving. Adrian had been flung against the opposite wall and now remained a crumpled heap on the floor, a small trickle of crimson blood running down his forehead. Without thinking about it, Merlin ran over. Ignoring the way his hand was shaking slightly, the warlock pressed it against the Druid's neck, a rush of relief flooding through him at feeling the pulse. At least someone was alive. Remaining crouched next to Adrian, Merlin let his eyes survey the rest of the scene.

Sebastian was still tied to the altar, but he too was out cold. Whatever the force had been that had blasted Merlin back had left no one standing. Repeating his check that the man was still alive, Merlin found himself in the middle of the room. Part of him didn't want to turn around, didn't have to acknowledge what it was that he was about to face.

Finally, though, the warlock managed it. He even shut his eyes as he completed the turn, terrified at what he was about to see. A strange rush of relief shot through him at still seeing Arthur chained to the wall, hanging limply. He too was unconscious, his wrists taking his entire weight, his head sagging forward. For a moment, Merlin was confused. Why was he glad to see his best friend in a position like that? But then the reality snapped back into place. If the Dreafela had entered Arthur, he would not still be chained. Merlin made to step forward when he realised what was missing. He couldn't see Horath anywhere!

Merlin froze, spinning slowly on the spot as he searched the room. When he could still not see the creature, he ran forward, almost crashing into the wall next to Arthur. A quick check of his pulse showed that he too was alive, but it was weak and erratic, racing far too fast under Merlin's hand for the warlock to be happy. Taking in a deep breath, Merlin carefully moved around Arthur, lifting his shift in order to look at the prince's back.

He gasped, stepping away in horror. The wounds from the whip hadn't bled, it wasn't that type of whip. But angry marks were splashed across his back, pulsing with dark magic. Merlin knew he would be able to help, but not here. He had to get Arthur out, and if Horath had decided to vanish, maybe now was his only chance? He turned his attention to the manacles holding Arthur, and cursed under his breath. How had he kept it together throughout this? Arthur would have automatically sought out a weakness in the cuff, searching for something that would grant him a way to escape. Realising that there was not even a join in the shackles must have been a low blow indeed.

Merlin had just lifted his hand to Arthur's right wrist, intending to break the chains away when a noise caught his ear. He spun, hand still hovering over Arthur's and stared about him.

"Horath?" His voice was low and cautious, and Merlin was partly wondering why he was calling out at all. Shouldn't he be grabbing Arthur and running for it whilst they were still alive? But Merlin knew he could never do that. He couldn't leave Sebastian and Adrian unconscious when the Dreafela was still around. Arthur was possibly the safest – he didn't have magic so was of no desire to the Dreafela apart from his body. But Merlin was sure that if the creature was given the choice between magic or a body, there would be no doubt as to who would be in more danger.

Another small rattling came from the other direction, and Merlin's head span so fast his neck cricked. He backed up, and felt something behind him. Turning violently, Merlin almost stumbled over his own feet as he tried to search for the reasoning behind the noise, but he could see nothing.

"Time to get you out of here, Sire." Merlin closed his fist around the shackles and forced his magic to the surface. With a resounding crack, Arthur's hands fell free and the warlock was nearly flattened as the unconscious man fell forward. Catching him around the chest, Merlin started dragging Arthur towards the door, suddenly glad he was unconscious. If Arthur had been awake for this, his back would have been sheer agony. As he shifted Arthur's position, Merlin winced when he caught sight of the new wounds on the prince. Angry burn marks were around his wrists, and Merlin felt a rush of guilt as he realised he was the one who had put them there. The manacles had been magic; they were making sure that a mark was left.

Pushing aside the tears stinging his eyes at the treatment Arthur had been subjected too, Merlin forced himself to think about getting the man out of there. If he could get Arthur to safety, even as far as the forest, he could come back for the other two and...

And what? Merlin knew he was trying to force himself to think positively, and that was making him lose his grip on reality. Horath was still around. Even if Merlin did manage to escape with Arthur, he had two people unconscious with magic already here. A compensation if nothing else for not getting the magic he wanted, but Merlin knew the thing would not refuse it. If Merlin left them there, they would be as good as dead. Could he have that on his conscience, knowing that he could have tried to at least save them? But did he dare risk Arthur?

Groaning at the fact that he now seemed to have to make decisions that could potentially cost three lives, Merlin didn't see where he was going until his foot caught on something. Stumbling backwards, he slipped over, pulling Arthur down with him as he stared at what he had tripped on. Greg was lying on the floor in front of them, eyes wide open and lifeless. Merlin had seen bodies before – following Arthur everywhere had seen to that – but for it to be someone he knew, even if he had hated the man? And to know what had done it, and that the thing had wanted to do that to Arthur before ripping Merlin apart? That made up the warlock's mind.

He crawled the last part, tugging Arthur along after him and pushed the man out in the corridor. Scrambling to his feet, he ran to the altar, a flash of his eyes making the straps around Sebastian snap. The noble was pulled from the altar, his dead weight causing Merlin to almost drop him before the servant managed to drag him out to join Arthur. Now all he needed was to get to Adrian...

Sprinting across the room, Merlin dropped to his knees beside the man, not liking the way the wound on his head still seemed to be bleeding. But there was no time for that now, and he hoisted one of the Druid's arms over his shoulder. Gasping under the weight, Merlin began to drag the last man towards the archway that was now serving as a door since the real thing had been destroyed by the rock fall.

But after taking a few steps, something caught his eye. Lounging in the corner, arms folded casually across his chest and eyebrows raised in amusement, was Horath. In one glance, Merlin knew he was finally face to face with the Dreafela as the man's eyes flashed black. He didn't even have time to bring his own magic to the surface before he was suddenly blasted off his feet, Adrian thrown away from him.

A barked spell later, and Merlin was standing, throwing forward a force of his own to combat the Dreafela's magic. He knew the thing was strong, and all the stories told him that you couldn't fight the thing with magic. But Merlin had refused to believe the tales, had to hold onto hope that there was some way he could at least fight it. He had to believe there was, for it was the only way he could see at being able to save Arthur.

And yet, for as much as he had wanted to hope, Merlin knew in a split second that it was hopeless. The Dreafela laughed cruelly, his head arching back in pleasure as the spell just seemed to sizzle out of existence, not even touching him. Merlin staggered with a gasp, feeling a sudden drain on him that he had never felt before. Trying to not let it faze him, he shot another spell at the creature. He used no words this time, but just let the full force of his magic blast forward, determined to protect its destiny once again.

This time, the Dreafela did stagger back a pace, that spell too fading away. But it was clear it had had some impact, and Merlin felt a small grin on his face. He had a chance. His victory, however, was short lived. As Horath's eyes pulsed with darkness, Merlin staggered, feeling another drain on him. It was only then that he realised what was happening. The magic he had shot at the Dreafela was now being sucked from him. He knew that most sorcerers couldn't use their power without being tired by it, but he had always been different.

Until now. He had thrown the sheer force of his magic at the creature the second time around, so the third spell barely even reached it halfway before the Dreafela absorbed that too and Merlin fell to his knees, his head spinning. Not that the warlock was going to let that stop him, however, and Merlin knew he had to keep trying. Reaching deep down inside of him, he tugged on the core essence of his magic, his eyes turning gold as yet another force ripped from him.

This time, the Dreafela was thrown backwards, Horath hitting the wall and sliding down with a hiss of anger. Merlin knew he had to get out, that he didn't have the energy for another spell with whatever it was that the thing was doing to him. He scrambled to his feet, stumbling towards Adrian when something crashed into his back.

Nothing was there but a sheer magical force, driving Merlin to the ground even as he tried fighting back against it. For a moment, the world seemed to go white and Merlin suddenly realised just how it was that Greg had been able to keep Arthur under control for all of this time. One spell and it was as if the victim barely even existed. Despite knowing he was still conscious and still alive, Merlin couldn't react in the slightest. He couldn't even feel his magic, let alone use it.

The next thing he did feel was something tight and hard over his arms, pinning him down. As the same feeling appeared on his legs and around his waist, reality caught back up with the warlock and he yelled in horror. Horath had moved him, now having him tied down on the altar with the now mended straps and was standing over him in satisfaction.

Merlin lashed out physically, but the thick leather straps did their job well and he could barely move in the slightest. He tried throwing a spell out, but could almost watch the Dreafela absorb it since they were so close and immediately felt the drain on him.

"Now I have won." The thing whispered softly, reaching down and caressing Merlin's cheek. The warlock shouted in pain, every touch making it feel like his skin was on fire as his magic struggled to repel the thing that was draining its life force. The Dreafela laughed.

"So powerful. So much power for one so young." He backed away, one hand stretched out towards the struggling warlock. He didn't say anything, but his eye pulsed darkly and Merlin felt his skin tear. Blood flowed from a deep cut in his arm, and it was as if his magic was leaking out through the wound, into the air and then being absorbed by the Dreafela.

"N...no, no!" Merlin thrashed slightly, doing all he could both physically and magically, but he could no longer get control over his magic. The Dreafela let his eyes flash again, and another cut appeared, then another.

Eventually, Merlin could take it no more, and screamed, hot tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes at the agony.

MMM

Arthur could hear a scream ringing in his ears as his eyes slowly opened with a muffled groan. Every inch of him hurt, but Arthur couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. He was still him, but where had Greg gone? Or the Dreafela, Arthur wasn't sure which any more. Slowly sitting up, the prince blinked. Since when had he been sitting down? He was sure that he had still be chained to the wall when the transfer had taken place, but there was no way he was there now. He wasn't even in the same room!

Glancing over to the side, Arthur started in surprise to see Sebastian sprawled next to him, the man only just beginning to stir. Arthur frowned. How did he feel about the noble? The man had betrayed him, he had pretended to be a Knight whilst hiding that he had magic the whole time. Every second he had been in Camelot, he had been committing treason. And yet... Arthur couldn't deny the man's actions. He had been trying to save the prince's life. He still didn't know how he was feeling even as Sebastian's eyes flickered open, but despite himself, Arthur found himself smiling reassuringly.

"Sire!" Sebastian scrambled upright, looking about him in alarm. The reaction showed he hadn't quite expected to have to deal with Arthur. It was clear he hadn't expected to get out of it alive, and considering the last time he had seen the man, he had been strapped down on an altar, Arthur had to admit the chances had seemed pretty slim. But if Sebastian hadn't been the one to get them out, then who was? Arthur had struggled against the manacles for long enough to know that normal means wouldn't have got him out.

"Adrian!" Sebastian's yell made Arthur jump, but also made him wonder whether he had perhaps found the answer to his questions. Before they could wait for an answer, another scream sounded, echoing off the rock and intensifying as it did so.

"Merlin." Arthur muttered, jumping to his feet. He should have known that his servant would have turned up, but judging by the sound of that, the Dreafela was finally getting what it was that he had been after for so long.

"Sire, wait..!" Sebastian's call was no good. Arthur had already run straight back into the chamber, eyes widening in horror at the sight in front of him. Merlin was tied down, blood almost running off the altar. But the servant was still struggling weakly, and he turned his head at hearing Arthur come in, tears running down his face.

"A...Art...Arthur.." he gasped, looking somewhat horrified at seeing the prince there. Arthur attempted to smirk.

"Good to see you too," he said flippantly, drawing the Dreafela's attention away from his injured manservant. Arthur glanced about, and saw that Sebastian's sword was resting on the floor not far from where Arthur was now. He threw himself forward, dropping into a roll and snatching up the weapon. He hissed in pain as he felt his back ripple, but straightened up, the sword in his hand.

Horath glanced towards him, amused. Arthur had been so weak when on his own. Give him something to protect, and the warrior in the prince surfaced once more. With one spell, the sword was torn from Arthur's grasp and something wrapped around his throat, lifting him clean off his feet.

"N..no..." A weak whisper came from Merlin, and Arthur knew his friend was getting extremely close to passing out. Whether it was just through blood loss, or something else, he wasn't sure. A noise at the doorway revealed Sebastian stumbling through, eyes widening in horror when he saw Merlin. He all but seemed to ignore the prince gasping for air, instead weaving unpleasantly over to the warlock and crashing down next to the altar, fingers fumbling on the straps.

Realising that neither of them were in a position to help him, Arthur awkwardly brought his leg up, grasping. Sebastian hadn't noticed his dagger being stolen from him out in the corridor, too distracted by what he was supposed to say to the prince he had betrayed. But Arthur had let it slide from the man's belt, concealing it in his boot. He wasn't even sure why, maybe he just didn't like the idea of the Knight being armed when he was not considering Sebastian had magic at his disposal. It had been Arthur's way of trying to regain some control over the situation.

Black spots were dancing in front of his vision, lungs screaming for air as Arthur finally managed to grasp the dagger. He pulled it free and threw it with uncanny precision at Horath, striking the man square in the chest. The spell dropped immediately, sending Arthur crashing down to the ground, gasping for breath. Horath looked down with a gasp, the black fading from his eyes as he took in the sickening sight of a dagger coming out of his own chest.

But even as the man crumpled, a mocking laugh filled the room as a swirling black mist rose from the body. Arthur watched it for a moment before realising that it was heading directly towards him. Sucking in a panicked breath, he lurched backwards, not even having time to get back to his feet as he tried to avoid the mist coming directly at him. He had just given the Dreafela exactly what he wanted.

"Arthur!" The shout came from an unknown voice, and Arthur knew that Adrian had regained consciousness. Just in time for the Druid to watch the prince die. Arthur couldn't help but see the irony in the situation.

His back hit the wall and Arthur knew that was it, there was no more escape...

"Merlin, c'mon!" Sebastian whispered, glancing down at the almost hyperventilating and injured warlock he was trying to free. "It's about to take Arthur, you have to do something..."

"Too st'ng..." The mutter was so weak that Sebastian wasn't even sure he had heard it to start with, but Adrian was suddenly by their side. He pulled out his own concealed dagger and cut through one of the straps holding Merlin down.

"There is another part of the story. He's not as strong when he doesn't take a form. Merlin, hurry! You have seconds before Arthur is gone! Do something!"

Merlin weakly lifted his head, and saw the spirit of the Dreafela advancing on the prince. He could barely even feel his magic any more, he wasn't sure if there was any left. But this was his destiny. This was his friend.

Feebly lifting one hand, he chanted something under his breath, his voice growing dark and dangerous as gold flooded back into his eyes. Using the magic was agony, it desperately trying to escape through the wounds now littering his torso compared to being released through the spell. Eventually though, Merlin managed to force it to focus for long enough to let the spell fly.

He didn't even see if it worked, unconsciousness claiming him and dragging him under.

Arthur, as per usual, had no idea of the rushed conversation that had just taken place across the room from him. In fairness to the prince, he had been a little more than distracted this time at the rapidly approaching magical being that intended to possess him and force him to do who knows what, most likely to his own servant.

But even as Arthur glanced frantically around for another escape route, the mist swirled, almost touching him. Arthur cried out and flinched, feeling the darkness and coldness of the being momentarily brush along his consciousness. Trying to brace himself, Arthur gasped as the feeling disappeared just as suddenly as it had come. Opening his eyes – he didn't even remember screwing them up – Arthur let out a shaky breath. The mist was nowhere to be seen.

Somehow, although he knew it would mean momentarily accepting the idea that magic had been used for something good, Arthur knew it was gone for good. He wasn't sure how he knew, but the temperature in the room seemed to lift by a few degrees as he shakily pulled himself to his feet.

"Merlin? Merlin!" Hearing the worried call, Arthur glanced over towards the altar. Sebastian was bent over Merlin's prone form, clearly trying to rouse the boy. But Adrian was looking directly at Arthur, almost as if daring him to try something. The unwavering precision of the gaze made Arthur swallow slightly. It was almost as if it was an admittance, Adrian telling Arthur he was the one to save his life.

Little did Arthur know that was precisely what Adrian was doing. The longer the prince looked into the Druid's eyes, the more he would come to believe that he was the one to use the magic. There was no way Adrian was about to let Arthur find out about the secret protector that had been looking after him for so long. Arthur wasn't ready for the truth, not with how he had reacted to Sebastian. And judging by how uncertain Merlin had been with his magic around those who would actually respect him for it, the Druid wasn't sure the warlock was ready for Arthur to know the truth either.

The young royal eventually blinked and looked away, accepting the lies spiralling within Adrian's eyes, oblivious to the fact that it was a spell to stop him suspecting his servant. He stumbled across to the altar, almost collapsing on top of his servant as his hands fumbled for the rest of the straps. Merlin was unconscious, and judging by how many places he was bleeding from, Arthur wasn't sure whether that was good or not. It would mean he would no longer be feeling the pain from the wounds. His exhausted hands scrabbled uselessly at the straps.

"Here." Sebastian's quiet and calming voice – the one Arthur knew had made him a damn good Knight even if Arthur had always had his doubts about him – cut through, and the noble made short work of untying Merlin.

"Knew I'd end up saving you," Arthur muttered, hoisting Merlin up and tipping the boy over his shoulder. He immediately grimaced as his back stung, but as the two remaining men stepped forward, Arthur brushed away their concerns.

"Go." He ordered tersely, and Adrian tensed. Sebastian, on the other hand, tugged on his friend's arm.

"Not now." He muttered softly. The man knew that Arthur was struggling to cope here, and considering everything that had happened and been done to him, he couldn't blame him. Letting them go now was Arthur's way of saying that he was letting them go for good. If he had the energy or was even thinking straight, he would no doubt try something more rash considering Sebastian's betrayal. One day, the noble knew the time would be right, but for now, they had to get away before Arthur snapped.

It wasn't until their footsteps had died away did the prince stumble forward, Merlin's weight on his back.

"Let's go home." He muttered, slowly putting one foot in front of other and making his way out of the room that had been his prison and hell hole for four days.


	13. Chapter 13

**Only another chapter or so to go on this now. Thank you so much once again for the amazing reviews and support, means the world.**

Arthur barely even noticed as he staggered out into the cool outside air. Apart from his one escape attempt where he had made it this far, this was the first fresh air he had had in five days. Yet, instead of gulping it down like a dying man needing oxygen, the prince just stumbled on. His eyes were fixed on the ground, and the only thought that was going through his head was that he needed to get as far away from the ruin as possible. But even Arthur was aware that outrunning your demons was not as easy as that.

Merlin stirred slightly as the cooler air hit him, whimpering as he felt the jostling of Arthur's back, but didn't say anything. Arthur wasn't sure whether that was good or not. He either realised that his master was trying to help so for once didn't have some flippant comeback for the blond, or he simply wasn't aware of his surroundings as the small cries of pain seemed to indicate. Arthur had to force himself to carry on. He wanted to stop, wanted to try and make sure Merlin had at least stopped bleeding. But he knew that he had to carry on. He had no idea where they were, no idea who else was around. He had to keep moving, at least for now.

Eventually though, Arthur could go no further. Despite his determination to head all the way back to Camelot that night, his body had other ideas. His legs simply refused to walk any further, buckling underneath him and sending him falling forward. He had no idea how he managed it, but Arthur managed to slide Merlin gently off and onto the ground even as he was falling. But it meant that the prince was the only one who hit the floor in a tangle of limbs and a yelp.

For a long moment, Arthur didn't move. Now that he had stopped, the adrenaline rush had completely worn off, and it was only Merlin's presence (if it could count as that considering his awareness) that stopped the prince curling up and crying. Everything hurt! His back was the strangest burn of pain, pulsing constantly and making him feel weak at the knees now he was thinking about it. But that was only the beginning. His wrists both ached and throbbed from where he had been chained for so long, the bouts of unconsciousness not helping considering it meant they had taken all of his weight more than once. His head was pounding through lack of food and water, everything he had consumed in the last few days having been drugged. But not only that, it had been two days since he had last had anything, ever since the whipping. If he was honest, Arthur wasn't sure he would have been able to stomach anything after that.

Lying on the forest floor now though, he knew that he needed to do something, and fast. If nothing else, he needed to find a water supply if he was to have any chance of making it back to Camelot. It took nearly three attempts, but eventually, the exhausted prince managed to push himself into a kneeling position, glancing about him for some recognition of where he was. But rather than seeing something that gave away his location, he instead just saw Merlin and all thoughts of water vanished.

The warlock was paler than Arthur thought anyone should possibly be, and as he crawled over, thought that the boy had a vaguely green tinge about him. He was breathing way too heavily, almost as if he was struggling against something even as the wounds continued to bleed. Arthur changed his plan. He knew that if the pair of them had any chance of getting back, he had to see to Merlin first.

"C'mon, idiot." Arthur rasped, shocked at how hoarse he suddenly sounded as he dragged himself over to his manservant. Merlin's eyes were open, but glazed, filled with pain and something that Arthur couldn't quite place. He decided not to dwell on it, knowing that he didn't have the strength to think about whether that truly was the faintest hint of gold burning in his servant's eyes as well as the blue. A blue, he couldn't help but think, that had never looked so dull and lifeless.

Arthur was panting by the time he managed to get close enough to Merlin to even think about helping him, but the prince was letting the stubbornness of being a Pendragon roar into life. If Merlin didn't make it back, it meant that the Dreafela and Greg would have won after all. And there was no way that Arthur was going to let himself go through that only to lose to them now. Well, that was what part of his brain was telling him. The other part was just screaming at him to do something to help his friend.

Hands shaking, Arthur managed to tear off a strip from his shirt and took Merlin's arm in his. It hung limply, but Arthur did see the way Merlin's eyes flickered onto him and there was a hint of recognition.

"A'tr..." The whisper sounded so weak, so fragile, that Arthur couldn't look Merlin in the eye as he carefully wrapped up one of the deeper wounds before repeating the process. His stomach was turning at how many of them there were, and he knew that he would run out of shirt before he could bandage them all. He would have to prioritise.

"Don't talk, you moron. Save your breath, save what little of that pathetic strength you do have." Whilst trying to reassure Merlin that everything was going to be okay by slipping back into his usual tone of voice, Arthur couldn't deny the tremble in his tone. He was utterly exhausted and it was obvious to his servant that he was seriously struggling to deal with everything that had happened.

"Yo'r hu't too..." Merlin continued, coughing slightly as he tried to get his voice to work. He made to sit up, determined to make sure that Arthur was looking after himself as well, but a surprisingly gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Don't move." Arthur ordered gently, all pretence dropped this time as he finally locked eyes with Merlin. Even only being half alert, the warlock could see the concern burning within. To Arthur's surprise, Merlin fell back without a fight, watching through half-lidded eyes as his prince and master tended to his wounds with surprising efficiency. He knew Arthur too well. The prince was always so determined to protect his people that he didn't care about the risk to himself. Arthur wouldn't move until he was sure that he had done all he could for his servant. But Merlin could see the way the royal's eyes were screwed up slightly in pain, and winced in sympathy. Arthur mistook the wince and immediately grimaced in response, but didn't stop. Merlin let him, knowing it was what Arthur needed.

Eventually, after what felt like an age to the prince, he knew that he could do no more for his servant. He couldn't help be grateful that Merlin was still conscious, even if it was only just. He didn't want to be on his own again, not after the last few days. So his servant might not be talking nonsense as he normally was, but the presence alone was a comfort to Arthur. After the pair of them spending so long together, nothing was needed to be said in order to provide the reassurance the other was desperately seeking. Merlin's head was resting on the ground now, and his breathing had evened out, yet Arthur wasn't happy. He hadn't regained any of his colour, and if anything, was looking worse.

But whilst the prince had managed to stem the flow of blood, that was not all that was leaking out of the wounds. The Dreafela had been trying to drain Merlin's magic; the cuts were far from ordinary. Even as the crimson streams managed to slow down, something else was still leaking out. Merlin couldn't get a hand on his magic at all, not with the pain disorientating him so. But he could feel it leaking out of the cuts and into the air. His very life essence was slowly leaking out of him, and he knew that he was not going to make it back to Camelot like this. He couldn't exactly tell Arthur what was really happening to him. And even if he did, what then? Arthur wouldn't know how to stop it, and Merlin had no desire to be left to die alone in the woods. He would rather have his best friend there.

"Merlin?" The warlock jumped in surprise when he realised that Arthur was leaning over him, clearly having been trying to get his attention for some time. But this time, there was no rude remark about the servant's lack of attention, no rolling of the eyes. "We need to move, we need a water source."

Merlin distractedly nodded, not quite realising that Arthur would be completely parched. Despite his treatment at the Druids' hands, he knew that he had been in comfort compared to what Arthur had been through. Arthur smiled apologetically as he reached down, grasping Merlin's arm and pulling him to his feet. Draping one arm over his shoulders and then wrapping his own around Merlin's waist, Arthur made sure he was taking most of the servant's weight as he helped him along, teeth gritted against the burning in his back.

They felt like they had been walking forever when their pace slowed again. In reality, it had only been a few moments, but neither of them had the strength to keep it up. Merlin's legs went first, the prince suddenly realising he had gone from supporting Merlin to literally holding the servant up. Dragging him over to the cover of the trees, he gently propped the warlock against a thick, sturdy one and stepped back, looking at him critically. Arthur may not know precisely what was wrong, but he knew that Merlin was sick. He had just hoped that it was blood loss, but the prince was beginning to get a suspicion that it was something more than that, something he couldn't help with. If Merlin didn't want to tell him, then Arthur was not going to let on that he knew, instead just seeing what he could do subtly to help his friend.

Arthur crouched patiently in front of Merlin, waiting for the glazed eyes to finally focus on his face. Merlin gave a weak smile and shifted position.

"Than' you." He whispered, and Arthur felt a rush of relief at hearing his voice slightly stronger.

"I need to find water," he responded gently, one hand on Merlin's shoulder to stop him from falling sideways. "There is some near, all the signs are there. Are you going to be okay for a moment?"

"You know me," Merlin responded with an attempted at a grin. It ended up more like a grimace, but Arthur appreciated the attempt nevertheless. If it wasn't for the look in Merlin's eye, he would have said that Merlin was winning against whatever it was that was plaguing him. But there was still that haunted and resigned look lingering, and Arthur knew it was just wishful thinking. The prince shook his head fondly.

"Don't move and you might not get into trouble," he said with a smirk, slowly making his way back to his feet. The whole world lurched alarmingly and Arthur was vaguely aware of Merlin calling his name. "I'm fine," he muttered, forcing himself to take a few steps forward. Breathing in deeply through his nose made the nausea subside slightly and Arthur moved away. If he was honest, every step was agony and he wanted nothing more than to be the one to curl up under the tree and order his servant to go and get it for him. But the prince knew he needed water, and fast.

Pushing his way clumsily through the undergrowth, Arthur was vaguely aware that he was stumbling, his feet no longer wanting to allow him to walk in a straight line. It was only when his shoulder collided with a tree that he could have sworn wasn't there did the prince realise he was in trouble. He wasn't going to make it to the water, but nor was he going to make it back to Merlin. Taking a few more steps, Arthur hit the ground, his back pulsing and burning with the dark magic that had been forced into him. The Dreafela had never had any intention of letting the Once and Future King live. It thrived on chaos, Arthur's destiny would have brought peace and stability. Before changing his plan to possessing the prince, the creature had made sure that he wouldn't get out of the situation alive.

He crawled a few more steps, one last attempt at getting to where he needed to go, before his arms would no longer support him either and he pitched forward. Lying on the cold and hard ground, almost gasping for breath, Arthur winced, letting the pain get to him.

"Sorry, Merlin," he uttered under his breath, making one last attempt to lift his head before stars erupted in his vision, the world spun alarmingly and everything went black.

Arthur couldn't help but regret not being able to save Merlin more than himself even as thoughts left him once again and he was taken far away from the pain, a severely weakened body lying on the forest floor.

MMM

Merlin was restless as he stayed against the tree. He desperately wanted to go after Arthur, but knew that he would be out cold in just a few steps. This was it. His magic was leaving him at an even quicker rate now, almost flooding out of him, and Merlin could feel his heart pounding frantically, as if reminding him that it was still beating, that he was still clinging onto life. But as his breathing sped up as well, he found that he fell sideways as he shifted, not having the strength at all to support his own weight.

But somehow, Merlin knew that something was very wrong with Arthur. The same tug that had drawn him in the right direction all of this time was pulling at him again, trying to get him to go to the prince. He had learnt what that meant now. It was when Arthur was in trouble. But not just any trouble, the magical kind. It was his destiny telling him that he was the only one that could help the prince, that he wouldn't be able to help himself. But what on earth could have found Arthur now? Unbidden, the pulsing magic splashed across the prince's back sprang to mind, and Merlin gave a small cry of horror and distress. It wasn't some new, magical enemy that was hurting the prince; it was something that had already been done. Something that Merlin should have healed when Arthur was still hanging unconscious in the chains. But now it was too late. Not only had he absolutely no way of getting to the prince, he barely had any magic left in him. Even the slightest movement made his vision dim and weave, and Merlin knew that if he lost consciousness again, he wouldn't have the strength to wake up from it this time. His life force was almost drained, everything that made him Merlin was leaking out of him and he had no way of stopping it.

If he had been like anyone else, he would already be dead. But his magic was different; it was constantly replacing itself, allowing Merlin access to spells and power others could only dream of. It was why the drug hadn't been strong enough to stop him; his magic had already been replacing itself. Merlin knew it was ironic. If he could just stop his magic from leaking out of the wounds for even a few minutes, it would begin to strengthen, possibly even enough to heal him. But he was caught in a circle. He didn't have the strength to stop it, so it didn't have the opportunity to fight back.

"Sorry, Sire," Merlin whispered, making to move forward but loosing the fight against his body and ending up face first down on the forest floor. Neither of the two young men knew they had uttered almost the same words or were now in the same position. Merlin was still conscious, but blackness was tugging at his vision. Wildly wondering if this was what if felt like to die, the warlock tried to see something, _anything_, but his eyes weren't co-operating any more.

His other senses, however, were still working. He may not have been able to see, but he could still hear. And it was with a pounding heart that he heard two sets of quiet footsteps approaching him. Weakly, he tried to force his body to move, even if it was just to lift his head. He had had enough of being the vulnerable one since this whole thing had started, but his body refused. He could only squirm slightly as he heard the steps get closer, until suddenly, there was a hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

"It's okay, Merlin, it's only us." Merlin could have sobbed with relief. He never thought there would be a day when he was so grateful to hear Lord Sebastian's voice, but he fell still, letting them roll him over. Blackness still swum in front of him and Merlin was alarmed to realise that things were starting to sound muffled. He could hear that Sebastian – and no doubt Adrian as well – were conversing in low tones next to him, but he couldn't hear what was being said. Which was why he wasn't expecting to suddenly be sat up, leaning back on one of them. He was too weak to protest, his fuzzy brain not comprehending the fact that he was being moved without his say-so. But when he felt his head tipped back and the taste of something familiar on his tongue, a spark of alertness sprang into life and Merlin shifted feebly.

"No..." he muttered, trying to turn his head away almost deliriously. Why were they giving him that drug again? He had no magic left, the Dreafela's spell was sucking it out from him. What were they doing? He tried to twist his head away, but a somewhat gentle hand closed over his mouth, keeping him both still and forcing him to swallow.

"Easy now, we'll explain in a minute." Merlin blinked. He had heard that clearly. Then he blinked again, realising that his sight was beginning to return to him. A third blink revealed Adrian crouched in front of him, his hand still resting on Merlin's shoulder from where it had dropped from his mouth. That must mean he was leaning back on Sebastian. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he was moved until leaning against the tree again, both men coming around in front of him.

"Merlin? Merlin, can you hear me?" Merlin shook his head slightly, trying to rid the last of his fuzzy vision before forcing his thick tongue to move.

"Yes." He rasped, feeling something change within him. Something warm was glowing inside him. It was as if there was a central point created, somewhere deep inside, spreading out a soothing feeling. "Wha' you do?"

"The drug suppresses magic, Merlin." Sebastian said patiently. Merlin simply stared at him, not understanding. If they wanted him to get where they were going with that argument, they were going to have to spell it out for him. Merlin's brain, whilst thinking more clearly than it had been a few moments ago, was too clouded by pain to make sense of anything.

"Your magic can't be sucked from you if it isn't there."

"Oh." Merlin suddenly understood, realising what the feeling within was. The drug hadn't removed his magic before, even though it should have. It had just suppressed it. That was what it was doing this time. But the magic in the wounds couldn't reach the magic, couldn't locate it in order to drag it from him. Merlin could already feel his magic starting to heal itself, reacting to the drug. He knew it was going to take more than one dose to keep it down, but he couldn't stop the smile spreading over his face. They had just saved his life.

"The Dreafela's magic, from what we can believe, wears off after three hours. You left the ruin about an hour ago. If we can keep you down for another two at least, it will stop draining you and your magic can be let free again."

Merlin smiled again, feeling a sense of relief in the knowledge that he wasn't going to die alone in this forest, that there was some people out there with the know-how to be able to heal him. But even as he was thinking, something wasn't quite adding up. Why was he alone? Where was Arthur?

"Arthur!" Merlin tried to lurch upwards, and the whole world swum alarmingly. He might not have been leaking magic everywhere any more, but he had still suffered from severe blood loss.

"Where is he, Merlin? Where's the prince?" Sebastian sounded anxious again even as he stood up after the ailing warlock, grasping Merlin by the arm to steady him and stop him from falling over Adrian. The Druid too stood, sharing a concerned look with his friend as Merlin looked around frantically.

"I don't know! He went to find water, he's hurt too..." Suddenly, Merlin remembered what he had felt, why he had tried to move again. "He's in trouble, something the Dreafela did...the whip was dark magic, it's in him...he needs me!"

"Merlin!" Sebastian's sharp reprimand cut through the air as he moved in front of the warlock, taking him by the elbows and shaking him slightly. "Breathe. Take a deep breath and relax. We'll find him. Stay here."

"No, I'm coming too..."

"Merlin, stop." It was Adrian who spoke this time, a commanding tone in his voice that Merlin had not yet heard before. It was only then he remembered that Adrian was the leader of that group of Druids, he was used to people doing what he said. At the end of the day, Merlin was nothing more than a servant in the presence of two people who were used to having their orders followed. His gaze dropped to the ground and he shifted in annoyance. For all his powers, he still was expected to do what everyone else told him.

"You can barely walk," Adrian continued softly, pushing down on Merlin's shoulder and gently forcing the young man back down to the ground. "We will find him and bring him back, I swear. But we still need you to stay alive."

"M'fine..."

"Enough." Sebastian suddenly saw in Merlin's eyes what Adrian could not. He had been witness to the friendship between Arthur and Merlin back in Camelot, and knew that even the prince couldn't make his own servant do something that Merlin didn't want to. The warlock wanted to come, no matter what the cost to himself was. Sebastian nodded at Adrian, who promptly disappeared off into the forest without another word. Merlin made to get back up, but Sebastian drew his sword. Merlin's eyes widened in surprise.

"Stay there," Sebastian warned, placing himself in front of the warlock, his stance threatening.

"You wouldn't stop me," Merlin tried to sound certain, convinced that Sebastian wouldn't hurt him in any way considering what they had just been through. But somehow, his voice came out as more of a tremble than he wanted, his head and stomach deciding to take that moment to lurch at the same time, protesting against the movement Merlin had already made.

"Seb!" The shout made both men turn simultaneously towards Adrian's voice, the worry in his tone telling them what they needed to know. Arthur really hadn't made it very far at all. Merlin scrambled up and darted forward, almost falling over as he did so, but Sebastian had been expecting that. He barked a word, and the warlock was pulled up short. As Merlin stared, the noble disappeared.

Merlin glanced down at his wrists, then back at Sebastian. A long length of rope was tied to each one, and it was only as he made to move forward did he realise that it was looped around the tree. This was the first time he had properly seen Sebastian use magic, and he had to admit, the man was efficient. Unfortunately, it meant that Merlin was stuck and he had no choice but to sit back down and wait for them to get back. Part of him was wondering whether his own destiny would be so much easier if he either drugged or tied Arthur up every time he was about to knowingly put himself in danger.

Within no time at all, they were back. The rope was long and Merlin found that he had adequate movement to come forward and help as Adrian lowered Arthur's prone form gently down to the floor. Another look was shared and Sebastian hurried away, knowing that they had to find water for the prince, and fast. Adrian, however, had carefully pulled away Arthur's shirt, wincing at the marks on his back.

"Can you help him?" Merlin whispered. Between the Dreafela and Adrian, he had no more magic than the prince himself at this given moment in time, the fact that he was tied to a tree made that much apparent. Blood loss was still making his head swim, but the concern for Arthur was cutting through the fogginess in his mind and allowing him to think vaguely straight.

"Keep back." Merlin for once did as he was told, sitting back against the tree and watching as Adrian muttered spells under his breath. The darkness in Arthur twisted, almost looking like snakes were moving in his back as it repelled Adrian's magic. After a while, the Druid sat back, looking defeated.

"Let me try." A soft voice cut through, and Adrian glanced at Merlin like he had gone mad. But Merlin was staring at Arthur, a frown on his face as he felt something stir within him. This man was his destiny. He had already been given a way to cheat the Dreafela's magic by hiding his own. Maybe the creature was too powerful to be defeated, but maybe it could still be tricked?

The rope was long enough for him to crouch next to Arthur, but even as he made to lay a hand on the prince, Adrian muttered a word and it dissolved away into nothing again, causing Merlin to nod his thanks. There was no point trying to stop him anymore. Now that Arthur was here, Merlin wouldn't go anywhere. Sucking in a deep breath, Merlin laid his hand on Arthur's back, immediately gasping as he _felt_ the darkness of the magic. No wonder the prince was unconscious.

Closing his eyes, Merlin felt his own magic respond. He had no idea how it was happening, but it was avoiding the Dreafela's power, not being torn from him at all. Instead, it just slipped softly from him, out of his fingers and onto Arthur's back. A golden glow emerged from where he placed his hand, and slowly, Merlin moved it over the whole of Arthur's back, soothing each wound as he came across it. It was almost like a child, the dark magic rebelling against Merlin. But Merlin's magic was more powerful than any other, and the pure goodness leaked through, scolding the darkness and pushing it back again. How long the warlock stayed in an almost trance like state, slowly but surely healing the prince, Merlin had no idea.

But eventually, his eyes opened, pure gold spiralling within. He locked eyes with Adrian, blue seeping back through before promptly falling forward. The Druid only just managed to catch him in time, and when Sebastian returned with two full water skins, both Merlin and Arthur were unconscious.

Neither stirred for hours. The Druid and the noble managed to keep watch over them, getting some fluid into Arthur and keeping them warm as night fell. But the fight had finally got too much, and they had both given up. They both had a steady heartbeat though, Arthur's slowly getting stronger as the night drew on. They had won against the Dreafela. They had just lost momentarily against their own bodies.

But when dawn came, Adrian slipped away. Less than an hour later, the Knights of Camelot arrived on the scene. Only to see one of their own keeping watch with a drawn sword over the battered and bruised forms of their prince and his servant.

Leon dismounted swiftly, checking Arthur over before shaking his head fondly at Merlin's still form.

"Knew he would do it," he said quietly, before gesturing to some of the men. Between them, they got the two over some horses and set off for home. It had seemed a very long few days since the prince had been storming around the castle looking for his wayward servant. It had seemed even longer since the original attack in the forest. It was time for this to be over.

The horses were nudged towards Camelot and a slow pace was set, apart from one messenger riding ahead to inform both the King and Gaius that the prince had been found. No one noticed one horse drop back, ever so subtly. No one saw Sebastian turn and head in the opposite direction. He had no desire to return to Camelot and face Arthur now.

In fact, they were all so worried about the state the two had been found in, no one realised they were a Knight short as they rode through the city gates. No one apart from one. Leon watched Sebastian flee and gave a soft nod of approval. For the man to have disappeared at the same time as Merlin, Leon knew that Sebastian was hiding something. The fact that he had clearly kept Arthur alive was enough to stop Leon from pursuing him and finding out why he was fleeing when his father was still in Camelot. Maybe he was hiding something? But as Arthur stirred weakly as they entered the courtyard, Leon found he didn't care. Whatever he was hiding had kept Arthur alive, he could ask for no more than that.


	14. Chapter 14

**Another huge thank you for all of the reviews. Special bit in this one for all those loving bigbrother!Leon.**

He was lying on his stomach, that was the first thing that Arthur noticed. His arms were hanging loosely down by his sides and his head was cushioned on something soft. Eventually opening his eyes, Arthur blinked in disorientation for a moment as his brain struggled to catch up with events. He was sure he had passed out in the forest. He remembered going to get water and then the blinding pain ripping him open, especially with the realisation that he wasn't going to be making it back to Camelot. So when the prince realised that he was lying on his own bed, Arthur was confused.

Craning his head around awkwardly, the prince pushed himself up on his arms, determined that he was going to get up and find out what on earth was going on.

"Don't move, Sire." Gaius' words weren't quite needed. As Arthur took his weight on his arms, his wrists protested at once again being forced to support him and he collapsed back on the bed with a huff. Gingerly twisting his head back again, Arthur decided to take note from there. The covers were pulled up halfway, pooling around his waist and leaving his back exposed. Even he could feel that he had been changed though, his dirt and blood covered breeches were definitely not what he was wearing now. Judging by the cold sensation over his back, he was sure that Gaius had had a field day with this one, whip marks that hadn't broken the surface. Whatever ointment he was using felt wonderful. His back had been on fire just before he passed out, but was now just the occasional throb.

He had no idea it was nothing to do with Gaius at all. The physician had just decided to put something over the barely visible marks in order to stop the inquisitive prince from asking too many questions about why he could no longer feel a thing. Leon hadn't been able to be any more forthcoming, but considering the state the two young men had been found in, Gaius knew what had happened. Well, maybe not precisely, but he had never seen his ward look so pale. Even when Merlin had been poisoned, he didn't look as lifeless as the boy that had been draped over one of the knight's horse. Gaius knew with one look that Arthur may have the signs of what he had gone through physically – the prince didn't realise he had actually fractured one of his wrists thanks to the manacles – but Merlin showed the magical signs.

"Merlin?" Arthur groaned, not realising that the physician was thinking about the same person as him. He had caught a glimpse of Gaius sitting at the side of his bed, watching him closely as he came back around, but had seen no sign of his bumbling manservant. Why wasn't Merlin here telling him that he was an idiot getting himself hurt again? Nothing had ever been able to keep Merlin away before, no matter what Arthur had ordered him. So did that mean..?

"No! Merlin!" Arthur struggled to raise his weight again, his still bleary mind filling him with scenarios. Merlin never coming back with them, dying from his wounds out in the woods. The Dreafela still having him...

"Sire!" Arthur hadn't even noticed Gaius' hand on his shoulder, forcing him back down until his arms gave way and for the second time since waking up, he collapsed back into the mound of pillows with a long groan.

"Look the other way, Arthur." There was a small smile on the physician's face as Gaius encouraged Arthur to turn his head the other way. He could see that the prince was overexerting himself, the flushed complexion was not going to do him any good at all. Apart from the physical abuse that he had clearly suffered, Gaius was also worried about the fact that Arthur seemed to be severely dehydrated and not received nearly enough nutrition over the last few days. Judging by the fact that Merlin was fine in those departments – in need of a drink after being unconscious, definitely, but nothing compared to Arthur – he knew it was something to do with what Greg had done to him. Now that Arthur was awake, maybe he would be able to find out precisely what he was supposed to be treating.

Arthur did as he was told and awkwardly craned his head around the other direction. Merlin was in another chair by the side of his bed. But his upper body was actually _on_ the bed, his arms cushioning his head and his eyes were shut. Arthur let his gaze lingering on the stark white of the bandages wrapped around his arms and could see a few poking out of the top of his shirt, a clear sign that Gaius had managed to treat him.

"Is he..?"

"He's just sleeping, Arthur." Gaius responded gently, placing a hand of reassurance on the prince's shoulder. There would have been a day where Arthur barely blinked at the idea of an injured manservant, but the physician knew those days were long gone. "He regained consciousness just after you both were brought back, but wouldn't stay away in order to get the rest he needed."

"I'm surprised he fell asleep like that." Arthur muttered, turning his face back into the pillows and relaxing properly now that he knew his friend was going to be alright. It was just a shame that he was never going to admit it out loud. "For someone that always slept on the floor before coming to Camelot, he doesn't half moan about being uncomfortable."

"Yes, well," Gaius shifted a little and Arthur shifted his gaze onto the old man. Then suddenly realised how guilty Gaius looked, and couldn't help but laugh. No doubt the physician had slipped his ward a little something in order to make sure he got some rest. But the idea of being drugged, being sent into the black oblivion with no control over yourself made Arthur shudder.

"Sire?"

"It's nothing," Arthur protested, trying to shake images of Greg from his mind. It had always been the last thing that he saw before losing consciousness, whether it had been from the drugged food or the Dreafela casting some sort of magic on him. Gaius frowned down at the young man, seeing the way Arthur's fist had clenched and knew that it was _not_ nothing. But he knew Arthur, knew that he was never going to admit out loud to something being wrong.

"Arthur-," Gaius' voice started off as a warning. He didn't want Arthur to start hiding how much this had affected him. Something that could get that close to killing Merlin meant Arthur would have been out of his depth the whole time, especially given the signs of how he was restrained. But when he saw that Arthur was still watching Merlin out of the corner of his eye, he sighed. The prince's manservant would be the only one that Arthur would open up to now, Gaius could just tell. Especially considering it would mean that Merlin would hopefully return the favour, the physician wasn't going to press the matter.

"Get some more sleep, Sire." He finished off somewhat weakly, standing up and straightening out his robes. With both boys resting, he had the chance to finish off his rounds. Not to mention find some story to tell Uther, for even with his limited understanding of what they had gone through, Gaius knew he couldn't tell the King what had really happened, too much magic was involved.

"But I'm..." Whatever Arthur was going to say was lost as Gaius brushed a hand over the back of his head in an uncharacteristic display of affection and Arthur fell asleep, exhaustion catching up on him. Shaking his head, the old man headed towards the door and slipped out, only to see a pacing Knight in the corridor.

"Sir Leon?"

"How are they? How's Arthur?" Taking the loyal Knight gently by the arm, Gaius led him away, talking in a soothing tone. He didn't try and hide anything, admitting to Arthur needing time to recover from this. He knew Leon, knew the man wanted nothing but the truth. Besides, with a fractured wrist, Arthur wouldn't be training for a while. And if he was honest, he didn't want to have to be the one that told the stubborn young man that. There were times when Arthur really could take after his father.

MMM

_There were scratches all down his arms and legs from where he had forced the door, his ankle throbbing slightly from where he had slipped on the uneven courtyard up above. But Arthur could feel the fresh air on his face, he was out, he was free. No more being used as bait for helpless man-servants. Keeping low, Arthur sped out to the edge of the forest, only straightening up when he had reached the trees._

_Giving a small chuckle of relief, he began jogging, anxious to put some space between him and Greg, yet knowing that he couldn't go too far or fast. He hadn't eaten since he had been taken the day before, and had no intention of over-exerting himself. He knew his boundaries, and picking a steady pace, knew it would be a while before he would be forced to stop._

_Unfortunately for the prince, he had underestimated his opponent. He had no idea his whole flight had been watched by a figure already in the trees. Greg was perched in the branches of one of the trees. If he was honest, he had been hoping for a sign of Merlin, some hint that the loyal servant was already on his way to come and try and help his master. The sooner the warlock got here, the sooner this would be over with, he could feel the Dreafela stirring uncomfortably under the surface. But rather than a gangly black haired man, he instead caught a flash of blond and knew that his plan was about to go wrong. He shut his eyes, letting the Dreafela emerge._

_Arthur had no idea who was above him in the tree he was just passing under. He was masking his trail well, despite that slowing him down slightly. He knew that he couldn't let Greg follow him, just in case Merlin had already left Camelot. Arthur truly believed that his servant was already coming after him, it would just be a matter of time before he found his clumsy friend. But just as he reached his first decision at a fork in the rough path he had been following, his body ripped open with agony._

_Arthur didn't have time to stop the muffled cry from escaping him as his vision weaved. He tried a few more steps before collapsing onto the floor, his breath coming in harsh and panting gasps..._

"Arthur?"

_There was nothing he could do as blackness came clawing in on him, sensing more than seeing that someone was approaching. The temperature seemed to drop as the person came closer and Arthur knew that it would be no rescue. No servant laughing at him for getting caught, no Knights riding to his rescue as they had sworn to do. Instead, he simply tried crawling a few more steps, the figure following patiently behind before Arthur collapsed. Rough hands were forcing his arms behind his back and that was when he felt the manacles being fastened for the first time, a sharp flash of pain as they were magically sealed._

"Arthur, wake up, it's a nightmare..."

_A few links of chain appeared in between the cuffs, joining his arms behind him as the pain finally relented, letting him suck in a ragged breath. But it was too late. By the time that Arthur had managed to clear his vision enough to even contemplate running for it, he could feel himself being dragged along. He tried to struggle, tried to fight back and the world seemed to spin out of focus rather alarmingly. The next thing he knew, he was chained to the wall..._

"Arthur!" The prince blinked, gasping for breath as his chest heaved slightly, not helped by the fact that he was still lying on his stomach. Wearily, Arthur pushed himself upright until he was kneeling up before spinning around and carefully sitting back properly. Taking a few more breaths to calm himself, the prince then looked around him.

Merlin was awake, watching Arthur with concerned eyes even though he looked terrible himself. The prince wasn't sure he had ever seen his servant look that pale before, but even as he caught the man's eye, Merlin grinned. Albeit a smile that came nowhere close to reaching his eyes as he gazed at Arthur critically.

"How are you feeling?" he eventually asked softly, wondering if that was a really stupid question considering he had spent the last ten minutes trying to awaken his master from what looked to be a nightmare. In his head, he was already cursing Greg. He shouldn't have to witness Arthur at his most vulnerable like this, it shouldn't be happening. Merlin knew that Arthur would never say anything about what he was really feeling, but he knew how to read the man. He could tell by the lingering look in the prince's eyes that he was as shaken up about the whole experience as his servant was.

"Fine." Arthur said gruffly, refusing to meet Merlin's eyes.

"I didn't just mean physically," the warlock whispered, searching for a hint that Arthur was going to let him in and actually admit to being human for once.

"I said fine!" Arthur snapped, throwing back the covers and jumping out of bed. He wasn't ready to move that quickly however, and immediately stumbled. Before he could even think, Merlin was there, supporting him and helping. Like always. Merlin was always there for him, even when Arthur didn't even realise that he needed the help. And how had he returned the favour? By letting himself get caught and then only being able to watch as the Dreafela carved the only true friend he had ever had.

"Arthur..."

"Just leave me be, Merlin." Arthur shrugged off Merlin's grip and stalked over to the window, leaning against the wall for support as he kept his back turned to his servant. Unfortunately, it meant that he left Merlin looking at the marks the whip had caused. One of the reasons the two disagreed so often was that they were so similar. Arthur wasn't the only one with a guilt complex.

"I'm sorry, I should have got there, I could have stopped it..." Merlin had come closer, one hand outstretched as he moved for a better look at Arthur's back. More than anything, he was curious to see what his magic had done, unable to believe that he had managed to use it at all without it killing him. The first time he had awoken to find Gaius dressing his wounds, he could still feel the potion restricting his ability. Now however, he was back in control, and it felt wonderful.

"How would you have stopped it?" Arthur spun around, catching Merlin's wrist in his hand, but not letting go, shame and guilt burning out of his eyes and letting him mistake it as anger.

"What the hell would you have done apart from get yourself killed, just as they wanted. Why were they after you so badly, Merlin? Why?" His voice had risen to a shout and Arthur barely noticed that Merlin was trying to pull away from his grip.

"I don't know! Arthur, please, it hurts..." Merlin yelped, and Arthur suddenly realised what he was doing. He let go hastily and turned back away from Merlin, wanting to sink his fist into the wall. He couldn't even protect his own servant, what sort of friend did that make him?

"There must be a reason they were after you so much." He mumbled, half to himself and half to Merlin. He couldn't help it, he had had four days of isolation letting the thoughts run around his head. And was still no closer to finding out why Greg was after his servant so much. But unbidden, the memory of the slight golden tinge in Merlin's eyes as he fought for his life sprang into Arthur's mind and he frowned.

"I don't know." Merlin muttered wearily, turning away from his explosive master and automatically beginning to tidy things around the room. It was still a mess from the attack that had resulted in the whole of this mess. Thinking about it made Merlin frown.

"What are you going to do about the three servants who attacked us, I mean, you?"

Arthur shrugged, barely realising that he was relying on the wall more and more as exhaustion caught up with him and his lack of food made itself known. Unfortunately, Arthur didn't realise how visible his sag was until Merlin took a step towards him.

"Let me help..."

"Get out!" Arthur suddenly yelled. He couldn't deal with it. He couldn't take Merlin asking to be allowed to help. He was supposed to be able take anything like this, he had been trained for it all of his life. But Arthur had been trained in situations where he was the target. Not where he was the bait. This was so unusual for him, everything about it so surreal, that he couldn't take the hurt expression on Merlin's face. Couldn't bear the winces every time his servant moved and it had jarred one of the cuts. He may as well have been the one holding a knife for the amount of good he had done the boy. All he had done was get his servant hurt, almost killed.

"Arthur..."

"Now!" Arthur grabbed Merlin by the arm, dragged him across the room and almost threw him into the corridor. Just as he made to slam the door, a foot got in the way.

"Merlin, go back to Gaius, get your left arm redressed then sleep." Leon's calm and authoritative voice rang clearly through the corridor, and Arthur blinked in surprise. The man didn't turn his gaze away from his prince, looking completely in control. It was only then Arthur realised how much of a mess he must look, and couldn't deny that he had tears of anger and sheer frustration at being so helpless swimming in his eyes. Merlin glanced between the two, and something in his expression softened.

"I'll be around if you need my services later, Sire." He muttered, making his way down the corridor without looking back. But Arthur knew what it truly meant. His servant didn't blame him, and was there when Arthur was ready to let him in. He didn't hold Arthur responsible for his outburst, but instead seemed to understand how lost the prince was. Arthur could only gape after him, wondering how he, of all people, had ended up with a friend that loyal.

As Merlin disappeared around the corner, Leon pushed Arthur back into his room properly and shut the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face the prince, knowing exactly what was coming. Sure enough, Arthur didn't miss a beat.

"You have no right! I order you out, _now!_ Get out!" Unfortunately, Leon wasn't seeing his prince. He was seeing a hurt and confused young man who had no idea how to deal with what he had just been through. Especially considering it had almost cost him a friend at the same time. He merely raised his eyebrows, knowing it would drive Arthur to the very edge that he needed to be pulled back from. Once again, Arthur didn't disappoint and with a clenched fist, he drove it at his knight.

Leon didn't flinch as Arthur's hand collided weakly with his shoulder. His aim was off, his hand too tense. It was just another sign that he wasn't dealing, and only after one punch, Arthur cradled his wrist, turning away so Leon wouldn't see him wince.

"Arthur?"

"Get _out!_"

"No." Leon moved forward and gently turned Arthur around. He was rewarded with another fist to the chest, making him suddenly glad that he wasn't wearing his armour. This time, he closed his fingers around Arthur's wrist – gently whilst being mindful of the injuries there – and didn't let go. Arthur stared at him as if he had lost his mind.

"What are you doing? I'm your prince, you can't do this!" He pulled back harshly, but whilst Leon went with the movement so Arthur didn't hurt himself, he didn't relinquish his grip.

"Get off! Get off me, get off!" Arthur's voice cracked slightly and that was what Leon had been waiting for. He let go, but pushed Arthur back down onto the bed and forced his head between his knees whilst Arthur took a shuddering breath. The crack had been Arthur giving in. Now it was just a matter of putting him back together again.

"It's okay, Sire, you're okay..."

"Not me..." Arthur muttered, so quietly Leon thought he had misheard for a moment. But then he couldn't keep the smile off his face. Gone was the rash boy that challenged everyone and everything for no other reason than just because he could. Gone was the child who thought having friends was a sign of weakness, believing they only hurt you. It was true, if Merlin hadn't been Arthur's friend, the prince wouldn't have gone through what he had. But Leon knew Arthur wasn't even thinking like that. He had seen Merlin's injuries, and was blaming himself for them. It would explain his rash behaviour towards his servant.

"He's fine too." For a split second, Arthur looked like he was going to protest, deny that was what he meant as he carefully sat back up straight again. He hoisted himself further onto the bed, sitting cross legged as he leant back against the bed post, fingers scuffing over the bandage around his wrist.

"You okay?" Leon asked gently after a moment, giving the prince time to pull himself together again. Arthur eventually nodded, eyes fixed on the covers over his bed. Already, a slight flush was beginning to work its way up from his behaviour.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Arthur finally lifted his eyes to glance at his knight, but was unable to hold his gaze. He hadn't felt this ashamed of himself for ages. Leon laughed.

"With a fractured wrist? You hurt yourself more than me."

"Fractured?" Arthur's fingers continued to play with the edge of the bandage, and Leon was resisting the urge to tell him to stop it. He didn't want to push the prince too far.

"No training for you for a couple of weeks, Sire." He said apologetically, standing up and moving towards the door. Part one of his plan complete.

"Where are you going?" Arthur looked slightly alarmed at Leon going, but the knight smiled.

"You need a moment, then you need to go and apologise to that servant of yours."

"Apologise? To Merlin?"

"You threw him out, Arthur. After he risked everything coming out after you. He even made sure that your father didn't find out who took you to save the embarrassment of Greg defeating you. You need to apologise, Sire."

His words were delivered bluntly, but Leon could see Arthur thinking it over and quickly excused himself. He didn't go far, just instead taking up the usual position of the guards outside the prince's door. He didn't want for anyone else to hear this.

Sure enough, a few moments later, there came an almighty crash as Arthur threw something. The sounds of destruction continued for a good ten minutes or so, before there was the sound of a somewhat strangled yell. Leon winced in sympathy, but didn't move. Arthur needed to let all of the frustration out of him before he would be able to move on. Physically, he was already healing well, Gaius had sounded positive when they had spoken before. But this had taken Arthur to a whole new level emotionally, making him finally realise what a friend Merlin was. It was going to take a while for him to adjust back.

It was almost an hour later that the door opened again. Leon glanced over and nodded in respect, a small smile on his face. Arthur truly had pulled himself together. He had changed and washed his face, although Leon could still tell by the slight redness lingering that more than a few tears had been spilt. But it was more than that. He was once again holding his head high and he nodded in appreciation back before heading down the corridor without another word.

Leon watched him go for a moment before turning to head the other way. His job was done, for he knew Arthur was heading straight to the physician's chambers. After everything they had clearly been through, he was not about to let the Pendragon stubbornness drive a wall between the friendship between the prince and his servant. Although so saying, he knew that Merlin wasn't completely innocent in this either.

Not realising how well his knight knew him, Arthur found himself frozen outside of a familiar door. How long ago did it seem that he came rushing in here with an unconscious Merlin after Greg's first attack? He felt like so much had changed, and yet it wasn't anything as such that he could put his finger on. It was as if the experience had changed him, and finally plucking up the courage, Arthur let himself in.

"Sire! Do you need something?" Gaius immediately made to rise from the table where both he and Merlin were sitting. The servant looked like he had followed Leon's instructions about getting his arm redressed, but had no intention of sleeping. As Arthur watched subtly, his hand slid out to one side and he tugged the cover over a book. The prince made to say something, then changed his mind. He had come to apologise, not start another fight.

"I, um...no, thank you, Gaius. I'm fine. I just...came, I mean, I wanted..." Why was it physically a challenge for him to get the words out? Arthur's hands were toying with the bottom of his shirt and he had never felt so nervous. He had apologised to Merlin in the past, why was this different? Arthur knew though, it was an apology and a thank you rolled into one. Not something the prince was used to, but as he glanced back up, he caught Merlin's eye.

His servant grinned at him from across the table, and although he was still almost deathly pale, there was a sparkle back in his eye.

"Prat." He muttered fondly, pushing an extra bowl of stew across the table towards his master. Arthur gaped, how had they known he was coming? But then Leon's words rang through his mind and he smirked, sitting down at the edge and pulling it towards him. There truly were people around who knew him better than himself, and as master and servant began to eat in a companionable silence, the acceptance of Arthur's apology hanging between them, the prince realised something.

There were those who would protect him, even from himself, no matter what the cost to them. And one such person was sitting opposite him, almost looking like he was inhaling his food rather than eating it. With a small smile of contentment, Arthur too began to eat.

Maybe having friends wasn't such a bad thing after all?

**Only an epilogue to go now. Thank you so much to all of you who have read/followed/reviewed this. Means the world to me!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Well, this is it. The final chapter. Can't quite believe that this is over, nor the fact that I've managed to write it whilst posting as well, never used to do that. I cannot begin to thank you for the amazing support with this story. To all of those whom I can't respond to directly, thank you so much for your reviews, they never fail to make me smile. Everyone's do in fact, thank you so much. Also thanks to MightyMerlin for checking this for me and setting my mind at ease! Thanks!**

**And so, without any further ado...the final chapter:**

"Can we stop yet?"

"Stop moaning, _Mer_lin."

"Just admit it, we're lost."

"I know precisely where we are going."

"Just not how to get there." The last part was muttered in an undertone as Merlin glared at the back of Arthur's head before sighing. He never managed to stay annoyed with the prat for long, not any more. It had been six months since the whole ordeal, five since Merlin had been allowed back to work. The first week had been fine, the blood loss had got to him, along with the exhaustion and stress over the whole situation, and Merlin had slept the week away. Even Arthur hadn't had any sarcastic comments to make to that. The prince had kept randomly turning up, claiming he needed something from Gaius, but always leaving without it and spending the whole time watching his servant closely as if Merlin was just going to suddenly disappear.

The next few days after that had been alright as well, the secret warlock enjoying the time off and using it as a chance to study magic. He needed to know what had happened to him, what the Dreafela precisely was, so had hit the books with the hope of understanding. It wasn't as if there was much to find, but he did feel better for trying. But then he had just got bored. For days he wasn't allowed to do anything for fear of reopening any of the cuts, Gaius putting it quite bluntly that he was lucky to survive injuries like that. The only vaguely exciting thing that happened was when one of the wounds developed a slight infection and Merlin lost two days to a fever. He thought it had livened up the week, but the looks Gaius and Arthur were giving him meant his chipper mood was lost.

Simply put, Merlin was no good at sitting and doing nothing. He had never done it. There was always work to do when he was in Ealdor, and although he had dreamt of time off from Arthur and Gaius, being given it wasn't quite the same. He didn't know what to do with himself, and more than once found himself being marched back to Gaius' when he just "accidentally" turned up in Arthur's chambers and began to do things like make the bed the way he knew the prince liked it.

In the end, it was to save his own sanity and to stop his ward getting executed that Gaius allowed Merlin back to work. He claimed that the boy had healed enough, but Merlin knew he was just getting annoyed with things floating around the room every time he walked in. The warlock couldn't help it, he had just been so _bored._ After a slightly awkward start – both he and Arthur knew they had only gone through what they had because they had tried to help each other, just couldn't admit the words out loud – their normal routine had been established and things began to return to normal. Little did Merlin know that his return to work was the only thing that had managed to stop Arthur's nightmares.

But with his return to his duties, it meant that Merlin was once again having to run around after the young royal, whether he liked it or not. Arthur seemed to have developed a knack of keeping a close eye on him, even now, months later. Merlin suspected that Gaius had put him up to it, and whilst the servant felt like he should be offended, he was too touched by his guardian's concern to protest. Even so, he wondered how long it would take before they accepted he was fine. Six months was a long time.

Hence why Merlin was now trudging after his master on a damp and dull day. Arthur had wanted to get out of the castle, and in the way only he could, declared they were going hunting and then completely ignored his servant's protests. The deer they had been tracking had led them on a roundabout chase, hence their current predicament. Merlin had tried to tell the prince that they were getting further away from Camelot, but Arthur had just hissed at him to shut up the way he usually did when his servant interrupted a hunt.

"Arthur, please, my feet hurt. You don't have to carry all this stuff, can we just stop for five minutes?"

"Will you just..." Arthur paused from where he had been about to tell his servant to shut up as he glanced over his shoulder at him. Merlin blinked back, wondering what was going through the prat's head this time. Probably something to do with the stocks. What he wasn't expecting, was for Arthur to give in.

"Fine. If it will stop your moaning." It took Merlin almost a moment to react, he was too stunned. But then dropped to the floor with a relieved sigh, stretching his aching legs out in front of him. Arthur hesitated for a moment, before joining his servant on the floor. They sat in a companionable silence for a while, Merlin finally getting some feeling back in his limbs.

When Arthur climbed to his feet again, declaring they had to go as it was getting late, Merlin didn't protest. He hefted the equipment back into his arms and then began to get up. Unfortunately, it was really the wrong way around to do something, and his foot caught in a strap and the warlock began to fall. But before he even registered that thought himself, a hand caught him by the elbow and didn't let go until he was fully steadied again.

"You okay?" Arthur asked gruffly, concern shining out of his eyes that took Merlin by surprise. He mutely nodded, and the two of them stood in awkwardness for a moment, Arthur not letting go, until Merlin cleared his throat. Arthur jumped back as if burnt, and Merlin smirked, determined to get back onto more familiar territory.

"Why, you almost sounded like you cared there."

"Not a chance." Arthur shot back without missing a beat, the small smile on his own face making Merlin's smirk widen. "Don't want you dropping my stuff."

"Oh. Of course. Your stuff." Merlin caught Arthur's eye, and for a moment, they both just grinned. There was no point denying their friendship when they were around each other. Not after what they had been through to try and keep the other safe.

But then Merlin glanced around him and his smile slipped. He swallowed hard, something that was not lost on Arthur.

"Merlin?"

"I know where we are." The warlock whispered. This time, there was no teasing note in his voice, no sparkle in his eye. He tried to deny it, but his hands let out an involuntary tremble and he slowly put the equipment back on the floor. Subconsciously, his hand rubbed over one of the scars lining his arm. Arthur saw the action and looked around. Merlin could tell that he had guessed right by the way he suddenly paled.

The two stored the hunting gear under the safety of an old tree and pushed their way through the thicket. Sure enough, Merlin was right. He was certain he could sense the lingering presence of dark magic, and no sooner had Arthur hacked through a particularly stubborn nettle with way more force than was necessary – something that wasn't lost on his servant – the ruined castle came into view.

Merlin found his heart was thudding hard in his chest and he had to clench his fists together to stop his hands from shaking. He didn't know why he was reacting so badly, he had been through dangerous scenarios before. Being a magnet for trouble and servant to the Crown Prince (who was just as bad) had seen to that. But maybe it was because this time, he had been truly defeated. His magic had turned against him and almost cost him his life, something that he had never even come close to experiencing before.

Arthur glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, but the prince didn't say anything. What could he say, they had both nearly died in this place. Merlin felt a ghost of a smile flicker onto his face when he realised that Arthur was mirroring his actions though. The prince was rubbing across his wrist, where he too had a scar. The burn he had received when Merlin had forced the manacles open had gone, but both wrists now had a perfect band of white around the normally tanned skin. Merlin wasn't the only one who would forever carry a reminder of what they had gone through.

"Let's get out of here." Arthur eventually muttered, and for the first time ever, Merlin had no desire to disagree with his master. They almost ran from the area, grabbed the gear and kept moving. It was only when they had put at least a league between them and the place did Merlin feel the mood lift between them. Glancing at Arthur, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement to not mention what had just happened. Neither wanted to admit to their insecurities, despite how obvious they may have been. If they didn't mention it, then they could pretend it didn't happen. Arthur had never been one to open up about how he was feeling, and Merlin had become too used to lying to be able to say it out loud easily.

"We should head back to Camelot, Sire, it's getting late." Merlin eventually muttered, scuffing his toe in the ground and avoiding eye contact. It had been harder going back there than he thought it would have been, especially as he wasn't expecting it. Arthur cleared his throat gruffly, but nodded.

The silence stretched on between them as the afternoon drew on. It wasn't uncomfortable though, simply happening because conversation was not needed rather than anything else. Merlin knew Arthur was as preoccupied with his thoughts as he was, and didn't want to say anything.

At least, he didn't want to say anything until another noise broke the silence. Feeling his magic immediately rushing to the surface (something that was still giving him a thrill after having it suppressed for a few days), Merlin glanced around him. For a moment, he could see nothing, until he caught sight of a small pebble rolling down a hill.

"Arthur?"

"I know." The prince hissed back, his eyes also fixed on the movement of the rock. "There are at least ten of them up there."

"How do you know that?"

"That's not the only rock to have fallen, it's just the first you've noticed." Arthur muttered, but Merlin was surprised to realise that there was none of his usual sarcasm in Arthur's voice, he was simply making a point.

"So what do we do?"

"Carry on as if you haven't seen anything. It might not be anything yet..." No sooner had Arthur spoken when the hill erupted in a flurry of movement.

"You were saying?" Merlin said with a grin, shrugging off his pack and the gear and kicking them over to one side. Arthur rolled his eyes at his servant and drew his sword with a flourish, pushing Merlin after the equipment with one hand, getting him into the safety of the trees before turning to face the attack.

Merlin leant against a tree almost lazily as he watched the bandits rushing down the hill. A flash of his eyes, and one of them tripped on supposedly nothing, not seeing the roots sink back into the ground as he went rolling down the hill and conveniently knocked himself out on a tree. Another had raised his sword above his head with a war cry, only to find that it was suddenly tangled in the vines hanging from the tree he was running under. As he tugged in confusion, Merlin grinned as Arthur easily dispatched another two. The prince may need help from his secret warlock, but even Merlin couldn't deny that he was good.

Unfortunately, Arthur had been wrong about something. The ten that had attacked were just the first wave, and even as the panting prince was attempting to get his breath back, another wave ran down the hill, at least doubled in numbers. Merlin began getting more inventive, taking two or more out whilst still trying to make it look like an accident. A rolling boulder tripped three, a falling branch stopped another two. But that still wasn't enough as another wave came running down.

"What the hell is going on?" Arthur yelled, glad of the "accidents" but knowing he couldn't keep this up. He was only in his hunting clothes, no armour present. And they had been walking all day anyway, he was tired. He glanced back over his shoulder at Merlin, and felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Behind you!" He shouted, his voice lined with urgency. Merlin blinked, and then began to turn, but didn't make it before one of the bandits struck him over the head with the hilt of his sword. Merlin turned back to Arthur, his vision weaving alarmingly. He could just about see the bandits pressing in on the prince and the look of concern on Arthur's face before the whole world went dark and he could just feel his body pitching forward. In a way, he was glad he was unconscious before colliding with the floor.

MMM

Merlin couldn't stop a flicker of alarm from crossing his mind. He felt himself return to consciousness, but it was still dark. Why was it still dark, could he not see..? But then the warlock rolled his head to the side slightly, and like a wave, calmness washed over him. It was still dark because it was late, especially if the bright flames of the fire was anything to go by.

"'Bout time," a somewhat cheerful voice commented, and Merlin blinked foggily. He forced himself to sit up, only to see Arthur watching him with ill-conceived concern. "Why did you have to go and get yourself knocked out?"

"Not like I meant to," Merlin whispered, leaning back on a tree and shutting his eyes. That had taken more energy than he apparently now had, something that Gaius was going to have a field day about. Thinking of Gaius made him open his eyes again, running them over Arthur critically, looking for signs of injuries. Arthur felt his gaze.

"I'm fine. No thanks to you."

"You always said that I was useless." Merlin muttered back, sighing again.

"True. But trees have a way of staying upright when you go and get yourself knocked out, it's most annoying." Arthur's tone was so casual and so laid back that Merlin found himself agreeing before he quite realised what the prince had said. He sat bolt upright, mouth going dry and heart beating fast.

"That's...that's n..nothing to do with me!" He stuttered, hating the fact that when Arthur turned his ever-cool gaze on his servant, Merlin felt himself going red. What was Arthur saying? What did he mean? Did he..?

"Course not, Merlin." Arthur drawled, only to then wink at his servant. Merlin was vaguely aware of his breathing speeding up. "But nice one with the guy knocking himself out, that was impressive."

"I don't...you can't...I'm not..."

"Give the guy a heart attack, why don't you?" Another voice cut through the conversation as Merlin bordered on hyperventilating. Suddenly, there was a pair of hands on his shoulders, someone giving him a small shake. "Merlin? Merlin, breathe, damnit!"

"I'm d...don't...not..."

"Arthur, you're the only one who can calm him down. Why did you have to say it like that?" Merlin had a ringing in his ears, barely being able to hear what was being said. Until a sharp stinging sensation shot across his cheek and clarity suddenly reappeared.

"Did you just _slap_ me?" He spluttered, gazing up at Arthur, who sheepishly lowered his hand.

"You were getting hysterical." Although his breathing was back under control, Merlin could still feel his heart thudding uncomfortably. Arthur was watching him closely, and as Merlin looked into his master's eyes, he swallowed hard. There was pure understanding shining out of them and Merlin felt his breath catch once more. Arthur _knew._ He could read it in the prince's expression, he knew everything.

"How long?" he whispered, ignoring the fact that there were other people around them. He hadn't even noted who they were yet.

"Four months." Arthur muttered back, his voice equally as soft as he sat down in front of his servant. "You weren't the only one researching what happened, the pieces of the puzzle kind of slotted themselves together. The books confirmed it, but I think I already knew. Deep down, I knew. Your eyes went gold when I was getting you out of there. Everything they went on about, wanting you, that you had something they wanted. It makes sense, but it took someone else to confirm it." Arthur's gaze flickered over to one side, but Merlin simply looked at the prince, barely able to think straight.

"What are you going to do with me?" Merlin had never felt fear as paralysing. Even when the Dreafela was sucking his magic from him, he had never been as crippled with terror as he was now. But he knew precisely why. Whatever Arthur decided, Merlin would accept it. He had never considered the fact that Arthur might have looked into what had happened in the same way that Merlin had, nor that he might stumble upon the truth.

"Thank you."

"Arthur, I swear I would never hurt...wait, what?"

"Don't make me say it again, you idiot." Merlin simply blinked at his friend. Arthur wasn't going to kill him? He wasn't going to have him dragged in front of Uther and sentenced to death? He wasn't going to watch as Merlin burnt alive, having realised that a friend was a traitor and had been lying to him all this time. Arthur seemed to be able to read the confusion on Merlin's face.

"You saved my life. You knew what the Dreafela would do to you, you had been told, I know you had. And yet you still turned up, were still determined to come and get me out even though it would potentially cost you more than your life. How can I turn you in after that?"

"But the law..." Merlin trailed off feebly, his head reeling. When Arthur had demanded a hunting trip that morning, he never would have thought that it would turn out like this.

"Tell you what, if you get caught, I'll kill you myself. Oh, and if you do ever get caught, I know nothing, understand?" Merlin let out a shaky laugh, but found himself nodding. His mind was in a whirlwind, words were escaping him but he could feel the slight tears swimming in his eyes. Arthur had actually accepted him for who he was, and knew what Merlin had done for him. More than that, he had known for months and still kept his servant safe!

A hand dropped momentarily onto his shoulder, giving it a squeeze of reassurance before Arthur moved back to the other side of the fire. But even with the flames in between them, Merlin could see the small smile on his face.

"That's three silver pieces you owe me, Seb. Told you he would tell Merlin he knew before the year was out." Merlin jumped, properly looking around him for the first time since regaining consciousness. If his mind wasn't already still trying to process the last shock, he would have been completely stunned to see Sebastian and Adrian lounging around the fire with them. As it was, part of him just accepted it.

"What?" This time, he was ignored as Sebastian rolled his eyes and threw over some silver at his friend before turning to Arthur.

"How's your knee, Sire?"

"Fine, now." Arthur responded with a casual shrug, but avoided looking at Merlin. The servant however, sat up, frowning. Something didn't add up here.

"You only hurt your knee last month." Merlin said slowly, watching Arthur shrewdly as the prince shifted slightly under the gaze. Arthur finally lifted his eyes to meet Merlin's, shrugging.

"Like I said, I needed someone to confirm what I had read."

"You've been seeing these two? Sneaking out of Camelot to meet with known sorcerers? For _four_ months?" Merlin was practically yelping, wondering whether this really was Arthur sitting in front of him or whether it was some spell or trick. Heck, he would even settle for a dream right now, it would make more sense than the Crown Prince of Camelot accepting magic.

"You don't have to sound so surprised. They seem to want to keep you alive, goodness knows why. Why do you think I planned a three day hunting trip that just happened to coincide with that witch hunter turning up without warning?"

"You knew he was coming?"

"Adrian saw the carriages and sent me a message to get you out of Camelot." Arthur said simply, as if it was no big deal. Merlin simply stared. His master and prince was working with sorcerers to keep him safe, keeping what he knew to be a warlock out of trouble.

"I..." For once, Merlin had no words, but simply could stare at the three men. It was supposed to be him protecting Arthur, not the other way around. And yet, there was a small part of him glowing with happiness inside. Arthur was watching out for him.

"They kept going on about destiny and how you couldn't die or I would." Arthur said flippantly, not meeting Merlin's eye as he threw a twig into the fire as something to do. "So for self preservation, I had to keep you out of trouble."

"Thanks." He meant it as a sarcastic comment, something that would get them back onto ground that he was more comfortable on, but it came out as far more sincere than that, especially if the way Arthur dipped his head in response was anything to go by.

"So...what are you doing here now?" Merlin turned his attention to the once noble who had made his life hell. Being back with the Druids, not having to hide, was doing him the world of good. He looked years younger, and the simple attire of the Druids suited him far more than the clothing of nobility. "And you should tell your father you are well, if you really want to protect me. He's making servants lives hell because he is worried."

Sebastian shrugged at the comment about his father, meeting Adrian's eye. Merlin knew that type of look, it was one him and Arthur often shared. Something that had been said before, where both knew what the other was thinking.

"Like the prince said, you aren't much help out cold, and there were a lot of bandits, you two stumbled straight into one of their camps."

"You came to help?"

"Prophecy." Adrian said simply, and Merlin nodded. He knew how important the prophecy was to the two men, the fact that they would have given their lives for it gave that one away. He had no more questions, his mind still struggling to catch up with the turn of events. He glanced across the fire at Arthur, who was exchanging sword techniques with Sebastian, and couldn't help but smile somewhat fondly. For the first time since he had met the arrogant prat, Merlin felt like he was truly watching the Once and Future King. Arthur had accepted him and the two Druids, meaning that he was well on the way to accepting magic as a whole. Maybe he really could be the one to unite the lands?

The fire was warm and comforting, and Merlin found that he was shifting himself into a better position now that his heart rate was beginning to finally calm down a little. He curled up into a ball, his eyes once more turning gold to all that looked at him. But this time, it wasn't the release of the extraordinary power held within him, it was simply the reflection of the flames. Magic wasn't needed at a time like this. All was perfect...he was surrounded by friends who knew the real him and didn't hate him for it.

Letting out a satisfied sigh, Merlin didn't even notice Arthur throw his jacket haphazardly over his servant. The emotions of the last hour or so caught up with him, and Merlin fell asleep, safe in the knowledge that he was protected.

Never before had he slept as well as he did that night.

**The end.**


End file.
